Help
by Serpent of Slytherin
Summary: Hermione Granger is stuck in an abusive marriage. She wants to get out, and save her daughter from the abuse, but can't seem to find the strength. Will Oliver Wood be able to help her?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I own the plot, a few of the characters, but sadly, everything else is Jo's.

**A.N.** So the break that I was planning on taking from writing was thrown out the window. I'm back with yet another story. Read, review, and enjoy!

_Background: Hermione Granger is trapped in an abusive marriage. She lost everything in the Final Battle, including Harry and Ron. She doesn't know how to escape from her predicament, and fears she does not have the strength to do it. How will her life change when she runs into an old acquaintance? Will he be able to help her and her daughter?_

**Help**

**Chapter One**

Hermione Granger had suffered greatly in her relatively short life. The fight against Voldemort had turned into an all-out war shortly before the end of her seventh year at Hogwarts. Once she, Harry, and Ron had graduated, there was little time for them to enjoy the remainder of their teenage years. They were forced to grow up quickly, as they all rushed off to help the Order bring an end to the madness Voldemort was spreading.

Without Dumbledore by their side, the Order suffered terribly. It seemed the Death Eaters had vastly outnumbered the Order by almost seven to one. But still, they trudged on into battle. Harry was bound and determined to bring an end to Voldemort, and continued his feverish searching for the remainder of Voldemort's Horcruxes. Hermione tried to help the best she could by volunteering her help at St. Mungo's, tending to the wounded brought in from the battlefields, and sometimes traveling to the battlefields themselves to care for the more desperately wounded. Ron stood side by side with the members of his family in the Order, out on the battlefield he waged all out war on those who had made his friends at Hogwarts suffer.

And then came the Final Battle. There was almost no time for the Golden Trio to say what they wanted to say to each other, just in case they didn't get the chance to say it later. Hermione managed to get in two quick kisses on the boys' cheeks and to yell at their retreating back to be safe and she loved them very much and that she would see them once it was all over.

Hermione was still plagued with nightmares of the Final Battle. She never saw Ron or Harry's smiling faces again after they left her. She found out later what had happened on the battlefield that cost her friends' lives.

Ron had bravely stormed into the raging battle, intending to bring down more Death Eaters as he had previously done. After seeing his father fall to the ground at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange, he went after her to seek his revenge. He had fought bravely and fired curse after curse at her, but in the end, Ron's consuming rage was not enough to prevail over Bellatrix.

Harry had found the last of the Horcruxes, and now only needed to get the last bit that still resided inside Voldemort's body. With what was left of the Order flanking him, he sought out Voldemort to finish him off. Harry had ordered the Order to let him finish Voldemort off on his own, as he saw it as his last bit to Dumbledore to finish the mission he and the wizened professor had started together. Harry had been badly injured by a curse thrown at him Lucius Malfoy in an attempt to protect his master's life, but still, Harry never wavered. He finished off Voldemort, and the Order managed to round up the last of the Death Eaters that hadn't managed to Disapparate the moment their master was vanquished.

But the curse Lucius had struck Harry with proved too much to handle. He died in Hermione's arms while she was trying to save him. She could still hear his last words to her as she tried everything in her power to make him live.

"_We did it, Hermione. It's finally over. I finished it off for Dumbledore, for my parents. Maybe now I can rest a little, eh?"_

Heartbroken and feeling as though a part of her had died with the boys, she had retreated from the magical world and went back to live with her parents. For months, she lived without magic, too heartbroken and plagued with memories to continue using it.

Her parents had worried about her, and encouraged her to go back to her magic, telling her not to waste her talent and schooling. She didn't want to listen to them, after all, it was because of the magic that she no longer had her two best friends alongside her.

But then, just when it seemed that nothing could get any worse, her parents were killed in a car accident just a few months after she lost Ron and Harry. A drunk driver had slammed into the car late one night as they were returning home from a night out on the town.

With nothing left to go back to at home, Hermione had boxed up her childhood home and watched it go up for sale and get bought by a young married couple. She put everything in storage and managed to find herself a small flat near the Leaky Cauldron, the entrance back into the magical world.

She found herself walking past it more and more, often stopping and looking at it longingly, as though she wanted to go inside. Finally, one day, she had mustered up enough courage to walk in. People instantly recognized her as one of the Golden Trio, and though the questions they asked broke her heart, she found it all rather soothing. She had never really allowed herself to mourn for her friends, and in the wake of her parents' deaths, she found she needed to talk about everything that had happened.

That day, she had met Matt McAllister. He had been a year ahead of her at Hogwarts, a Ravenclaw. She had never seen him at school, but found him rather intriguing. Soon after their first meeting, they were seeing each other regularly. Matt had a job at the Ministry; he was an Auror and had seen many of the horrors Hermione often described to him. They had found solace in each other, both of them needing to talk about the horrors of the past that they faced.

They married a couple months after Hermione turned eighteen. She had decided to return to her job at St. Mungo's, and finished off her Healer's training to get a full time position. Returning to the magical community had helped her get over everything that had happened; she knew full well that she couldn't run away from her past, and needed to face it head on.

A few more months after they were married, Hermione found out she was pregnant. She and Matt were ecstatic; they had talked about starting a family, and were overjoyed when they found out she was going to have a baby.

On Christmas morning the year Hermione turned nineteen, she gave birth to a happy, healthy baby girl whom they christened Charlotte Grace. Hermione had never been happier; motherhood suited her well, and gave her a purpose. Oftentimes, even after she was married, she found herself falling into depression as memories would haunt her sleep. But with Charlotte's birth came new hope and life. Hermione threw all her efforts into keeping her baby happy and safe. She quit her job as a Healer to spend time with her new daughter and was quite content being a stay at home mom.

The problems at home didn't start until Charlotte was about four. She and Matt had always had an open policy on discussing things that had happened to them, but as their marriage progressed, he became more and more reclusive, oftentimes leaving work and heading straight to a bar for the night. Hermione knew he was having flashbacks from the Final Battle and such, but when she tried to talk to him about it, he would clam up and tell her to leave him to deal with it. She had even went so far as to look into getting him some help to deal with it all, but that had only enraged him.

That was the night he first hit her. She was trying to reason with him about going to talk to someone about the memories and the effects they were having on him, but he was being stubborn. She knew he had been drinking that night, but she didn't know how much. He had seemed sober to her when he came home, but once the conversation had turned to getting him help, he became angry and started yelling at her.

"Matt! I'm just trying to help you! Don't you see what this is doing to our marriage? You barely talk to me anymore! Charlotte asks me all the time why her daddy doesn't want to do anything with her anymore! You come home drunk more often than not these days! I'm just trying to help you!" she had yelled at him in exasperation.

"Help me? Help me? You call telling some stranger what I feel 'helping me?' I'll tell you what will help me! Leave me the hell alone about it! I'm dealing with it, all right?"

"Oh, you're dealing with it, all right! You come home drunk as a fish almost every night! You don't even realize what you're like when you're drunk! What do you think Charlotte thinks of her father coming home drunk, huh? I don't even want to share a bed with you when you've been drinking! You're unbearable!"

He struck out at her and hit her on the cheek. She had stumbled away from him with a shocked cry, her hands instinctively raised to protect herself from another blow.

"I'll tell you what's unbearable! Your damn nagging! Just leave me the hell alone, all right?" he yelled before storming from their flat.

Hermione collapsed onto the floor, sobbing, holding her bruised cheek. How had her marriage come to this? She thought they were happy! Now, because of their past, she was left with a bitter, angry man for a husband. A husband who had struck her.

Charlotte had come toddling out of her room, her auburn ringlets tousled and clutching her blanket.

"Mummy? Why are you crying? Where did Daddy go? Why was you yelling?"

Hermione looked up, gasping back her sobs. Charlotte had heard them.

Charlotte shuffled over to her and wrapped her small arms around Hermione's neck. "I don't like when you and Daddy yell. I get scared."

Hermione wrapped her arms around her daughter and picked her up to carry her back to her room. "It won't happen again, baby. I promise."

She tucked her back into bed and rubbed her back until she fell back to sleep.

Hermione found herself praying that this was the only time he would get so angry. She could only hope he would realize that he needed help.

Three years later, Hermione found herself now a prisoner in her own home. She was not allowed to go out without Matt with her. He had become almost delusional, thinking she was cheating on him with other men, and refusing her the opportunity to meet someone else.

She didn't know how her marriage had come to this. At first, the night he first struck her, she had refused to believe that Matt, _her Matt_, could get like this. She refused to believe that he might actually become worse and even hurt Charlotte.

His drinking had only become worse, and now he came home every night drunk. When his drinking had started to become worse, Hermione would refuse to sleep in the same bed with him. She would sleep on the couch after getting his drunk self safely into bed without killing himself first. But then he had figured out that she wasn't sleeping in the same bed with him one morning when she had overslept and failed to get up before him. He had awoken to an empty bed and stumbled out to the living room to find her asleep on the couch.

"Wake up, bitch! What the hell do you think you're doing, sleeping on the couch? We're married! We're supposed to sleep in the same bed together!"

Hermione jolted awake to find her husband towering over her, with an even bigger temper than when he was drunk. Her stomach coiled into fear, she knew what was coming next, but she still made herself be heard.

"When you're drunk, I find you repulsive," she said simply, bracing herself for the blow that she knew was coming.

For the next week, she tried her best to conceal the black eye that she had received from him. She tried to play it off as an accident, that she had run into a door or something like that.

Ginny, Charlotte's godmother and Hermione's best friend, was suspicious about it, but said nothing. Ginny had noticed that things had been a little rocky between Hermione and Matt for quite some time, but she knew Hermione would refuse to listen to her if she said anything.

Hermione could no longer get away with not sleeping in the same bed with Matt anymore. So she made sure that when he came home in a drunken stupor, she would cast a Silencing Charm on their bedroom door so that Charlotte could not hear them yelling at each other, or the occasional slap that would be thrown.

Tonight, she made sure that she had Charlotte in bed early, giving her six year old daughter a good long chance to fall asleep before her father came home. Charlotte knew what was going on now, she was an unusually bright little girl, she had picked up Hermione's intelligence and it was terribly difficult to conceal things from her.

Hermione had herself a cup of tea before climbing into bed herself and willing herself to fall asleep before Matt came home as well.

She laid there for hours, trying to fall asleep so she could escape her living nightmare. She stared at the alarm clock on her night stand. It was eleven and Matt still had yet to return.

Shortly thereafter, she had fallen into a light doze. She never really fell asleep until he came home, otherwise she would worry, despite the fact that she found herself loving her husband less and less every day.

Matt stumbled in a little after midnight. He stubbed his toe on his dresser as he clumsily tried to change into his pajamas and swore loudly, waking Hermione up. She cast the Silencing Charm on the door so Charlotte would not wake up.

Matt slid into bed and awkwardly ran a hand over Hermione's cheek. He reeked of alcohol, and she wanted to gag, but knew it would lead them into another violent row.

"Hello, love," he slurred, kissing her on the mouth.

She tried to resist at first, forgetting that she didn't want to make him angry. He was drunk, and she knew that this was going to get them nowhere. She was repulsed by the fact that he could even find himself aroused in his drunken state.

"Matt, stop, you're drunk," she tried to pry herself away from him, but he held to her fast.

"Matt, please, don't," she pleaded, trying to turn away from his mouth.

He bit down on her lip, drawing blood. She whimpered.

"You're going to give me what I want, do you understand?" he slurred.

She didn't want this. Who would? But she knew there was no escape. So she had no choice but to let her husband force himself on her.

Once he had finally worn himself out, he collapsed onto his side and instantly fell asleep. Hermione pulled her nightgown back on and rolled over onto her side, moving herself as far away from him as she possibly could. She cried quietly for herself and for Charlotte. Charlotte was an innocent victim, she did not ask for this. Neither did Hermione. But how was she supposed to know that Matt was going to turn into this monster?

She knew in her heart that she should leave him, before things got way out of hand. But things had already gotten out of hand. Hermione didn't know if she was strong enough to leave him. They had found each other in their most vulnerable states, and had clung to each other for comfort and solace. Who would she have to turn to if she left? And what of Charlotte? She needed a daddy in her life.

She needed out. . .she wanted her husband back. . .she didn't want to leave him. . .but she knew if she didn't, Charlotte could be next. . .

They needed help.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, a few characters, but sadly, everything else is Jo's.

**A.N. **Hey guys! I'm kinda not feeling the love at the moment. Over a hundred hits on the first chapter alone, but I only have four reviews? There's something wrong with this picture here. Let me know what you think! Good reviews, bad reviews, give me something to work with here! Read please, then go click that little 'go' button and leave me a line on what you think! I have an open mind, I'll settle for anything.

**Help**

**Chapter Two**

Oliver Wood, by his own opinion, was a simple man. He required very little to keep him happy; some sleep, some food, and the rest of his waking time spent playing Quidditch. That was all he needed really.

But was he really happy? Lately it seemed he was in a rut. Sure, living and breathing Quidditch was a dream many young boys would dream of, and traveling the world playing some of the toughest competition around was a right old time, but then why was Oliver feeling so empty?

He sat in his study in his rather simple cottage near the sea, polishing the handle of his beloved broomstick. Well, his study wasn't really what it sounded like. It was more a collection of every piece of Quidditch memorabilia that he had collected over the years. There was not an inch of wall space available for anything other than the numerous posters of his favorite teams and individual players. What wasn't taken up by the posters was taken up by large glass shelves, holding awards and trophies. There were a few pictures scattered around, showing his personal life. Pictures of him with his mother, father, and younger sister from one Christmas, another of he and his parents on his graduation day from Hogwarts.

As he sat polishing his broomstick, he pondered over why he was feeling so miserable lately. He couldn't blame it on Quidditch; hell, Puddlemere was doing so well lately it looked like they might have another shot at the World Cup this season. He was captain of the team now, having worked his way up over the years from being on the reserve team to his now coveted position. His teammates were the best ruddy mates a guy could have, and there was not a single negative thing said about the way he handled his team in the press lately.

So it had to be his personal life. Despite the fame and fortune that came with his career, he refused to live the lifestyles of the rich and the famous. He didn't keep a large house, only to sit empty most weeks of the year; instead, he had splurged on a beautiful cottage in the countryside right near the sea. In fact, if he were to walk out of the back door in his kitchen, and walk through the tree line about fifty feet from his door, his feet would touch sand. His family was doing well; his sister was off working with Charlie Weasley in Romania, dealing with those crazy dragons like loons. His father was now retired from the Ministry, enjoying his free time by pursuing hobbies he would have never had time for when he was working. His mother was the same as always, telling him to come home and stay if he ever wanted to get away from it all, sending him delicious leftovers, enticing him to come back home to what he was missing. She kept herself busy by knitting and sewing, in fact, the lightweight, black sweater he was wearing now was courtesy of his mother's handiwork.

Oliver remembered the last time he had seen the Weasley twins, Fred and George. Despite the three year age gap between he and the twins, they had kept up their friendship after Oliver left Hogwarts. Oliver would visit their joke shop from time to time, just to catch up on old news and to try out their latest inventions. He was amazed at some of the things they came up with.

His last visit, about two weeks ago, had been intended to be a quick drop-in visit, but, when they broke out the firewhiskey, Oliver ended up staying a little longer than he anticipated.

"So how's the team doin', Ollie?" George asked, banging the whiskey bottle back down on the table they were sitting around in the back room of the shop.

"Gettin' along fine, I suppose. Keeping busy with the lads and all, not much time for anything else."

Fred and George exchanged knowing looks.

"Not even a fine young lady hanging off your arm lately?" Fred asked with a wink.

Oliver frowned. "When've I got the time to deal with a lass hangin' off me arm?"

"My brother, I do believe I've struck a nerve," Fred said sweetly to his twin.

"In the off season, Ollie, you know, that time when you aren't playing full time? Unless you can't bring yourself to stop living and breathing Quidditch long enough to strike up a meaningful relationship with a girl," George said, exasperated.

"Yeah, come on, Oliver, you can't say it's because you look like a mule's backside. I mean, look at you. What girl wouldn't want to get a hold of Oliver Wood?"

Oliver chuckled. "That's just it, boys. What do I want with a lass who cares for me fame and fortune rather than the person?"

"Well, I suppose they're probably few and far between," Fred started, but George interrupted.

"Say, how long's it been since your last relationship, anyways?"

Oliver thought for a moment. "Nigh on about two years," he admitted.

The twins exchanged disgruntled looks.

"You mean you haven't had a good lay in two years?" George asked incredulously.

Oliver opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it. The twins did not need to know about the occasional girl he brought back from the bars. He was even ashamed of himself when he thought about it.

"I don't need a good lay to make myself feel happy," he said instead, but he knew it wasn't the truth. True, the girls served their purpose, but they only made him feel empty and miserable afterwards.

"Oliver, you can't kid us. We're Weasleys, remember?" Fred said, raising an eyebrow.

Oliver stood. "Well, it's time I get going. Thanks, lads, for the drink and entertainment."

"Oh don't rush off on account of your miserable love life. Someone had to tell you about it, eh George?"

"Too right, my twin," George agreed.

Now, as Oliver polished the same spot he'd been paying attention to for the past ten minutes, he knew that the twins were right. He had a miserable love life. No, take that back, he had absolutely _no_ love life whatsoever. And it sucked. A lot.

That's why he was so miserable. Because he had nobody to share his life with. The last girl he had been with made the mistake of getting drunk and confessing the true reason she was hanging around. Because of his money and his fame. So she could be a part of it, and be in the limelight.

Needless to say, he dropped her like a bad habit. And since then, he had been living alone in his little cottage, praying for the day that his miracle girl would come walking into his life to stay forever.

Oliver sighed and removed his polish rag from his broom handle before he rubbed away the wood completely.

What he wanted, more than anything, was a girl whom he could trust to love him for who he really was, not the Quidditch persona that he had become. He wanted someone intelligent, but not overbearing, someone absolutely beautiful in her own special way, but not vain, someone who wouldn't mind his Quidditch room and the way he could go on for hours about it.

He just wanted someone to love.

0000

Hermione had not been out of the house in almost two weeks. She and Charlotte were clearly suffering from the lack of human contact. Normally, Charlotte would go to her afternoon little league Quidditch practice. She had picked up the talent for it from her father, who had played Chaser on the Ravenclaw team in his time at Hogwarts.

But it seemed that Matt no longer cared about his little girl's happiness. Because he would not let Hermione out of the house, Charlotte could not attend her practices. So Hermione had to contact her little girl's coach and tell him that Charlotte would no longer be apart of the team. She had made up a terrible excuse, and she knew the coach wasn't buying it, but dammit, she was Charlotte's mother, and what she said went, no questions. The coach had gotten the hint after that.

So at the moment, Hermione was sitting on the couch in the living room, Charlotte in front of her. She was braiding Charlotte's hair in the normal, Muggle way, finding it rather relaxing to do something so simple as braiding her little girl's long honey brown locks. It helped her not to think of everything that was happening in her once happy home.

Hermione no longer had any hope that things were going to get better. Matt was as bad as he had ever been, if not worse. Drunker than a fish every night when he finally came home, he no longer paid Charlotte any kind of attention that a loving father would shower his little girl with. Hermione no longer made an attempt to speak to him, as he would become irrational and angry with the simplest words spoken. The only time the two had any contact was when Matt was in need of a good shag. That's all it was anymore. A way for him to get off and have his pleasure.

Hermione felt like a stranger in her own home.

Ginny had written her several times, asking why she hadn't been around to see her and her parents lately. Hermione had prattled off some lame excuses for her every time she wrote back, but in the letters sent back by Ginny, Hermione could tell she wasn't buying into them.

'This is what's it come to. He's taking away my friends as well as my happiness,' she thought sadly after reading Ginny's last letter.

Hermione finally seized her chance to get herself and Charlotte out of the flat a few days later, when Hermione discovered that if she didn't get to the supermarket to get some groceries, they would simply starve.

It was one of those rare days that Matt was actually home, having the day off from the job. It amazed her that he simply did not go out and drink, but she wasn't about to say anything. He was watching tv on the couch when she approached him.

"Matt?"

He grunted to show he was listening.

"Matt, I need to go to the store."

His head snapped around. He glared at her suspiciously. "Why?"

Her temper flared. She kept it in control. "Do you want to starve?"

He stood up so suddenly that she backed away several paces. He grabbed her and yanked her back to him.

"You had best watch your mouth there, my pretty little wife. Why can't you just conjure something up?"

She glared at him. "Because it's a pain in the ass, that's why. If you're so smart, why don't you lift your wand and conjure it up yourself?"

He backhanded her. She went sprawling on the couch.

"You're the woman of this house. It's your job to keep it up," he hissed. "And don't you _ever_ speak to me like that again, do you understand me?"

She glared at him still. "Yes. But I still need to go to the store. And I'm taking Charlotte with me."

He turned away. "Why does she need to go with you?"

"Do I really need to answer that? You took away her Quidditch league. It's the least I could do to keep _our_ little girl happy."

He paced back and forth in front of the couch. He was thinking.

"Fine," he snapped finally. "You are to go straight to the supermarket and come straight back. If you see anyone you know, you keep it short and sweet. If you see Ginny, you make your excuses. And if I find out that you've been talking to any other man besides me, you _will _pay. And make no mistake, I will find out."

"Then I had better be on my way," she said coldly, standing up and going to retrieve Charlotte from her bedroom, where she was playing with her dolls and pretending not to hear what was going on outside her room.

"Come on, sweetie. We're going to go to the supermarket to get some food."

Charlotte jumped up immediately. "Are we going to Apparate there?"

Hermione smiled at her daughter's enthusiasm. "Sure. But you promise me that you'll hold on tight to my hand."

Charlotte nodded solemnly. "I promise."

"All right. Put your shoes on and be ready to go by the door in five minutes. I need to get some things together."

She left her daughter to wrestle on her shoes and went in search of her purse. When she found it and pulled out her wallet, she discovered she had no money. She hated the idea of having to ask Matt for money, but she had nothing of her own anymore. He had made sure of that.

She walked back out into the living room with her shoes on and holding her purse.

"Matt, I need money."

"Why?"

"How do you expect me to buy food if I don't have any money?"

He yanked his wallet out from his back jeans pocket and pulled some money from it. "Here."

She made it a point to say thank you, but he didn't take any notice of it.

Charlotte bounded out of her room, her shoelaces on her sneakers done up the right way.

"Bye Daddy!" she chirped, running over to Matt and giving him a hug.

"Charlotte, move, you're blocking the tv," he grunted, not even putting an arm around her to hug her back.

Charlotte stepped back immediately, looking confused and hurt. Tears welled up in her eyes at the rejection her father had just showed.

Hermione took her little girl's hand and led her out of the flat. She waited until they were outside of the building on the sidewalk to comfort her daughter, lest the monster upstairs heard her.

She knelt down next to Charlotte and pulled her into a tight hug. "It's okay baby, don't cry."

"Why is Daddy acting so mean? All I did was hug him!" she cried.

Hermione rubbed her back soothingly. "Daddy doesn't know how to act anymore, baby. He's not very nice to Mummy anymore either."

Charlotte pulled back. "Is that why you have a bruise on your cheek?"

Hermione gasped. She had forgotten that Matt had hit her only a short while ago. She had become so used to it that it never seemed to faze her any longer.

She touched her cheek and felt it was swollen. "Charlie girl, is it bad?"

Charlotte's tiny hand touched her mother's cheek. "It's red and bruised."

Hermione cursed silently. She hadn't brought a compact mirror with her and she knew that it would do her no good to try and conceal it. She would just have to hope she saw nobody she knew and if she did, that they wouldn't ask questions.

Hermione stood up and took Charlotte's hand to lead her to the alley around the corner so they could Apparate.

"You know Mummy loves you very much, right Charlie?" Hermione asked as she held her daughter close to her before they Apparated.

She felt her little girl nod against her stomach.

"Okay. Hold on tight. Here we go!" Hermione said, spinning into nothing.

They appeared in another alley a few blocks from the nearest supermarket. Hermione took up Charlotte's hand again and together, they walked briskly to the market and swiftly went inside.

Hermione noticed many people giving her curious glances as they walked down the sidewalks, but she paid them no mind. She knew her bruised cheek was more obvious than she had hoped, but she refused to acknowledge its presence.

She grabbed a cart and instructed Charlotte to hold onto its side as they walked around the market, seeking out the things they needed.

It was wonderful to be out of their flat and to not have to worry about making Matt angry. They felt carefree and giddy for the first time in months.

Hermione realized that she had forgotten Charlotte's favorite cookies. They were on the other side of the store. She glanced at her watch, knowing it would be faster if she allowed Charlotte to get them herself, since she knew exactly what she was looking for and what aisle they were located in.

"Charlotte, I forgot your cookies. Do you remember where they're at?"

Charlotte nodded eagerly.

"Do you think you can get them yourself? Since you remember so well?"

She nodded again.

"Okay. You go get them. But be very careful. Don't talk to strangers, and come straight back to me. I'll be in the next aisle."

"Okay!" Charlotte cried as she raced off around the corner.

0000

Oliver strolled around the supermarket, gathering up the things he felt like eating for the next few days while he was at home. He had no method to his shopping, it was merely whatever he saw that interested him and what he felt like eating at the time.

He stopped and picked up an interesting looking package of cookies. He was dismayed to find they were entirely chocolate free.

He set them back on the shelf and continued on around the corner. He was surprised when something about waist high smacked into him and went flying backwards across the floor.

He realized it was a little girl that had run into him. She was crying and looked scared out of her mind.

"What's the rush there, little lass?" he asked her, looking concerned.

She stared up at him through her tears. She said nothing.

He bent down and picked her up to set her on her feet. "What's the trouble there, lass?"

She hiccuped slightly. "I. . .I can't find my mummy."

Oliver looked even more concerned. "Do you remember where she was?"

The little girl shook her head. "Mummy sent me to find my favorite cookies because she couldn't remember where they were. She said I could find them faster. We have to hurry back home so Daddy doesn't get mad at Mummy."

Oliver was puzzled, but didn't let on. "Well, would yeh like me to help yeh find your mum?"

She regarded him carefully. Her mummy told her not to talk to strangers, but he was so nice to her, and besides, he wanted to help her find her mummy.

"Okay."

He held out his hand and she took it.

"Let's go find your mum. Don't worry your bonny head about it, we'll find her." Oliver said confidently.

0000

"Oh Charlie girl, where did you disappear to?" Hermione whispered frantically as she peered down another aisle, searching for Charlotte.

Aisle after aisle, and no sign of her little girl.

Hermione was growing more panicked by the moment. Why had she let her go off on her own to find those damned cookies? She was only six years old, for God's sake!

'But she's mature beyond her years,' her head reasoned with her.

"Mature be damned," she muttered, racing down another aisle.

"Charlotte Grace!" she yelled.

Why did this store have to be so damn big? It would take a miracle to find her, if she hadn't been kidnapped.

"Charlotte Grace!"

She turned a corner and found her little girl running toward her. She gave a cry of relief and bent down to scoop her up into her arms, where she was safe.

"Oh, thank goodness," she cried. "I thought I had lost you for good, my Charlie girl!"

"I tried to find you, Mummy! I tried to hurry back so we wouldn't be gone so long, and then Daddy wouldn't be so mad at you!" Charlotte cried.

A throat was cleared nearby. Hermione spun around to find a handsome guy standing close to her, looking concerned.

"I, erm, found your little girl. I was helping her find you," he said.

There was something about him that seemed so familiar, but she couldn't place it.

"Thank you," she gasped. "Thank you so much for your kindness!"

"It was no trouble. The little lass was scared out of her mind when she ran into me."

Lass? The accent was so familiar. . .but no, it couldn't be him. . .not now, not with so many memories attached. . .

"Oliver Wood?" she breathed.

He looked confused. "The one and only. But who might you be?"

She set Charlotte down on the ground. "Hermione Granger. Well, McAllister," she said with a bitter voice.

Oliver was stunned. The little third year girl he remembered her to be was no more. She had grown into a beautiful woman. It was hard to see the little girl he remembered her to be when he had graduated Hogwarts.

"Hermione Granger? Wow, it's been awhile since I last saw you," he managed out.

"I can't believe it's you! You're so famous nowadays, I didn't think you would venture out," she said wonderingly.

"Ah, the joys of Quidditch. That's why I'm here in a Muggle market, less people to recognize me," Oliver explained, noticing the wedding band on her left hand.

They stood in an awkward silence. Hermione was amazed at the gorgeous man that stood before her. It had been so long since she had seen him last, over ten years. He was simply amazing.

Oliver cleared his throat. "So I, erm, I read about. . .about Harry. . ."

Her stomach clenched painfully. "Yes. It was very hard to lose him and Ron. It still hurts."

He looked truly sorry. "I'm shouldna mentioned it."

"No, no, it's all right. Sometimes it helps to talk about it. I imagine you miss Harry as well, you knew him almost as well as I did."

He shuffled his feet uncomfortably. He looked at her face closely. He noticed the large bruise on her cheek.

"Pardon my asking, but where did yeh get the bruise on your cheek?"

She cursed silently. He noticed.

"Is ever' thing all right, Hermione?"

He noticed the defeated look in her eyes for the first time, and he knew it wasn't because she lost Harry and Ron.

"Everything's fine, Oliver. Really, I appreciate your concern. We're fine," she said hurriedly, but she sounded like she was trying to convince herself of this first.

She looked at her watch. "Oh my, Charlotte, we must get going. We don't want Daddy to worry about us, do we?"

Charlotte looked between her mother and this Oliver person. She wished for just one second that this Oliver was her daddy. But the thought vanished as she thought of how bad that was to wish.

"Yes, Mummy."

Hermione smiled up at Oliver, who stood a good eight inches above her five foot five inch frame. "It was good to see you again, Oliver. Take care, won't you?"

"I will. It was good to see you too. And a pleasure to meet your little lass of a daughter," he said, winking at the little girl.

Charlotte grinned at him.

"Good luck with your Quidditch," she called as she and Charlotte walked away.

He watched her go with a closed expression on his face. He saw the look in her eyes when she mentioned her married name, and he saw the fleeting, scared look that crossed her daughter's face when she mentioned her father.

"_Mummy sent me to find my favorite cookies because she couldn't remember where they were. She said I could find them faster. We have to hurry back home so Daddy doesn't get mad at Mummy."_

The little girl, Charlotte, had said that when he found her. Hermione's husband, getting mad at that beautiful little girl and her equally beautiful mother?

Her face had been bruised. Her eyes had been deadened.

"The bastard," he muttered to himself, feeling his blood run hot at the thought of someone hurting Hermione. Or her daughter for that matter. He had seen the looks in both of their faces.

It was time to pay another visit to the Weasley twins.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I own the plot, a few characters, but sadly, everything else is Jo's.

**A.N. **Sorry guys! I would have updated sooner, but, most unfortunately for me, I started school again on Wednesday, and already I'm plastered with work up to my eyeballs. I still can't figure out why I'm taking a college level U.S. history class when I still have two years before I'm even graduated. . .anyways, read on, please review, let me know what you think!

**Help**

**Chapter Three**

Hermione struggled to keep a decent grip on Charlotte's hand and the numerous bags of groceries she was carrying at the same time. She knew they had been gone long, _too_ long by Matt's standards, and she knew she would be punished. She only hoped he would wait until Charlotte was out of sight before taking his fury out on her.

She pulled Charlotte to the alley they first Apparated to and pulled her behind a Dumpster. Hermione yanked out her wand and managed to shrink all the bags and packages so she could stuff them unceremoniously into her purse.

"Ready, Charlie?" she asked, pulling her daughter close.

"Yes, Mummy."

Hermione closed her eyes and spun on the spot, waiting out the awful compressing feeling before opening her eyes.

"All right, hurry, Charlie, or Daddy will be really mad," she said in a distracted voice.

Charlotte didn't question it. She knew how mad Daddy could get sometimes over silly things. She didn't want to make him mad either.

Hermione literally ran the short distance back to their flat building. She picked Charlotte up and marched her up the stairs to shorten their time. She did not want to think about the possibility that Matt had her followed, and he might know about her seeing Oliver. That could prove to be disastrous.

She set Charlotte down and let them into the flat.

It was quiet. The tv was off. There was no sign of Matt anywhere. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Come on, Charlie, help Mummy put these groceries away," Hermione said, setting down her purse and pulling the minuscule bags out of it.

She returned them to their normal states and began handing Charlotte the things she could put away herself.

Hermione was reaching up to put some baking goods up in the cabinet above the stove when she heard Charlotte drop a heavy can of tomato sauce behind her.

"Charlie, baby, be careful, I don't want any. . ." she trailed off when she realized who was standing behind her.

"Hello, Hermione _dear_, may I ask as to where the hell you have been for almost three hours?"

Charlotte was kneeling on the floor, the tomato sauce can beside her. Her mouth was open wide, seeing the look in her daddy's eyes. It scared her worse than ever.

"Charlie, baby, why don't you go to your room for awhile, okay?" Hermione said, trying not to look panicked.

Charlotte got up and skittered out of the kitchen.

Hermione braced herself for what was coming. She could see it in Matt's eyes. He knew she had seen Oliver. And she couldn't stop his wrath. She never could. She was no match for his strong muscled frame.

She needed help, desperately.

0000

Oliver left the store a little while later, thinking intently about what he had seen. Hermione Granger, well, McAllister, as she had said, had a beautiful little girl. Hermione was married. To a monster, as far as he could tell from the bruise on her face and the look in Charlotte's eyes when Hermione mentioned her father.

The question was, who the hell did she marry, and why did she do it? More importantly, why the hell was she still with a guy who was clearly beating the hell out of her?

It was time to see the twins again.

He Apparated from a dark alley to just outside the shop. He squeezed his way inside and looked around for a burst of red hair anywhere. He spotted one of the twins, presumably George, talking to some giggling girls about the side effects of the love potions they were wanting to buy.

George looked up at Oliver when he came to a halt next to him.

"We need to talk. Now. Where's Fred?" Oliver asked, looking around for the other redhead.

George didn't need twice telling. He quickly found Fred and asked the shop assistants to look after things for a few minutes while they talked to Oliver.

They went to the back room, where it was quiet and empty.

"What's the trouble, Ollie? You came storming in here like the world was ending," George asked.

"I want to know the deal with Hermione," he said imperatively.

Clearly, this was not what the twins were expecting. They exchanged a quick look and then Fred burst out laughing.

"Mate, you have clearly gone off your rocker! Did you not see the ring on her finger? She's married! She's got a little girl, for Merlin's sake!"

Oliver glared at him. This was not the time to be cracking jokes about his sanity. "I'm perfectly aware of that, thanks very much, Fred."

He instantly shut up. If there was one thing he did not want to do, it was piss off Oliver Wood.

"What do you mean, then? What deal?"

"I want to know who she's married to, when she married him, and where the hell he gets off beating the hell out of her," Oliver nearly shouted.

Again, the twins exchanged looks, but dark ones.

"She married Matt McAllister a few months after we lost Harry, and. . .and Ron," George said, still struggling to speak his little brother's name after all these years. "You know, Ravenclaw Quidditch team, Chaser?"

Oliver hissed through his teeth. "How the hell did he end up a wife beater? He was a decent guy from what I saw."

Fred's face darkened. "She won't tell us the truth. She keeps hiding it from Ginny and Mum. She hasn't been by in a few weeks. She's written, sure, but we haven't seen her. Just where did you see her, and how do you know Matt's hurting her?"

"I was just at a supermarket. A little lass ran into me, said she couldn't find her mum. I helped her find her mum. It was Hermione, as it turned out. We spoke. I saw a bruise, a big one, on her cheek, like she'd been hit a little while ago. I saw the look of fear in her bonny daughter's eyes. She looked defeated, no spark left in her eyes like she used to have as a young lass. Something her little lass said made me put two and two together. He's beating her," Oliver explained, his temper ready to boil over.

Fred looked at George, their worst fears confirmed. They knew, underneath the lies Hermione kept telling them, that there was more to it, but she wouldn't let them in. But what Oliver said only made it that much more clear. They knew there wasn't something right at home, and they could only stand by and watch helplessly as Hermione would show up with a new bruise or something of the nature.

"Ollie, why don't you come round for dinner tonight? I'm sure Ginny, Mum and Dad would be interested in hearing this. They've been looking for a reason to intervene for awhile now, but they never had any proof. Maybe you can show them the memory or something," Fred said.

"I'd like that. Anything to help the lass out," Oliver said.

"Just hand around her for a bit, we're about ready to close up shop for the night," George told him.

Oliver could only hope that he could help Hermione and her daughter out. That was no way to treat a woman, or a little bonny thing like Charlotte.

He had a mission to accomplish. Save the damsel in distress.

But it was more than that.

If they didn't do something, Hermione could very well end up dead at the hands of her husband.

0000

Hermione looked around desperately for something, _anything_, that would help her defend herself against Matt and his towering rage. Her eyes landed on the professional cutlery that were stored in a knife block on the counter near the stove. She began edging towards them.

"I don't think so, Hermione. You may be the cleverest witch of your age, but even I can see through your half brained idea," Matt hissed, grabbing her arm and throwing her into the living room.

She caught herself before she went skidding across the floor. She glared at him as he advanced on her, slowly.

"Why does everything have to be about violence, huh Matt? Why can't we ever have a logical conversation anymore?"

He looked down at her, the look in his eyes maniacal. "Because you keep messing up. I can't trust you anymore."

She felt his words sting her heart. "What have I _ever_ done to you?"

"You don't do as I ask, you don't keep this place up, you're raising Charlotte the wrong way, do I need to go on?"

She was astonished. "_I'm _raising Charlotte the wrong way? What the hell, Matt? I'm the one raising her the wrong way? What fine example you're setting for her, coming home drunk every night! She knows what's going on, she's not stupid!"

As she was yelling at him, she was backing up, not realizing that he was backing her into a corner, literally. When she felt her back hit the solid wall, she realized she was trapped. Fear coiled tightly in her stomach, making her feel sick.

"You go out after I give you _my _hard earned money, and stay out longer than I allow you to," he hissed in her face.

"We were grocery shopping, Matt. When you refuse to let me out to do some pick ups in between my big shopping, the place gets bare. What did you expect? The cabinets were empty. I had to get _something_ for you to eat, or you would have bitched about that," she defended herself sarcastically.

He slapped her. She felt her lip split wide open, blood dribbling down her chin and dripping onto the floor.

"You've been seeing other men behind my back and fucking cheating on me," he said in a low, evil whisper.

"You had me followed?" she shrieked indignantly.

"Of course I did, do you really think I'm stupid enough to let my beautiful wife out of the house totally unaccompanied? I did it for your own good!"

"You did it because you're a sick, jealous, and otherwise possessive bastard!"

This time, he landed a closed fist punch. The impact of his fist made her head drive back into the wall, striking sharply with a dull _thud_. She saw stars, but quickly shook her head to clear it.

"Then what the hell was it? I saw the way he looked at you!" he yelled.

"_You_ saw? What are you talking about?"

"I saw the memory! I'm not an idiot! I demanded my source give me the information I needed!"

"You are clearly delusional," she spat.

"I can tell when a guy is making a pass at my woman!"

"Excuse me? I am not _your _woman. I belong to nobody. You don't own me! And what you saw is obviously a bunch of bullshit! If you actually pulled your head out of your ass long enough, you would have realized that I was talking to Oliver Wood, whom I have not seen in many years! He was simply asking me how I had been all these years and we were having a friendly conversation, the kind that two people have when they have not seen each other in an excessively long time!"

He merely glared at her.

She gave a disgusted huff and pushed her way past him. She was not going to stand there and let him intimidate her any longer.

"I'm not finished with you yet," he said quietly.

She continued to walk back into the kitchen to finish putting the groceries away.

"I said, I'm not finished with you yet," he said a little louder.

She whirled around. "You know what? I'm not putting up with this shit anymore, Matt! I don't care if you're not finished with me yet or not! Go to hell!"

His face was suddenly transformed into something unearthly. The rage visible was almost indescribable. It was truly a look of evil.

She couldn't even protect herself from the impact of him throwing himself at her.

They collapsed onto the floor in with a sickening thud. He was sitting on top of her, cutting off her oxygen supply.

"MATT! GET OFF ME! MATT, I CAN'T BREATHE! MATT, STOP IT!"

His hands wrapped around her neck, cutting off her feeble attempts to scream. "You. . .will. . .not tell me. . .to. . .go. . .to. . .hell. . .again. . .or. . .I. . .will. . .kill. . .you. . ." he said with every thud of her head against the floor.

Hermione's movements became more and more sluggish as her brain began to shut down from the lack of oxygen it was receiving. Her vision fuzzed, then grew dark. All she could think of was Charlotte, she had to stay awake for Charlotte, who knew what he would do to their daughter after he finished with her?

The fire in her neck and head was too much. She couldn't breathe. . .somebody help. . .

With a final sickening crack on the floor, Hermione lost consciousness.

0000

Oliver Apparated with the twins back to the Burrow for dinner. Mrs. Weasley was delighted to see him again.

"Oliver Wood! It's been so long! Just look at you! Captain of Puddlemere United!"

Oliver couldn't help but blush as she gave him a bear hug.

"It's good to be back here again, Mrs. Weasley," he said, returning the hug.

"Oh stop with the Mrs. Weasley business! It's Molly," she said firmly.

Another redhead walked into the kitchen to see what the commotion was about.

"Oh, hey Oliver," Ginny greeted him.

"Damn, you two, your sister's grown into quite the knockout," Oliver teased the twins.

Ginny blushed. The twins each socked Oliver in the arm.

"Ow! What the hell, Ollie? You've got bricks for arms!" George complained, massaging his knuckles.

He shrugged.

"You boys go off and relax before dinner. It will be ready shortly. Ginny, would you help me, please?" Mrs. Weasley said.

Ginny remained behind in the kitchen while the boys went back outside to get some fresh air.

"So what's the deal with this Matt guy?" Oliver asked as they strolled around the garden.

Fred shrugged. "Thought he was a nice guy when we met him. Thought he'd do right by her. Never dreamed it would come to this a few years later. And with Charlotte around to see what's going on, I feel sorry for the little one."

Oliver remembered that sweet little face, and how it seemed she trusted him almost at once when he offered to help her find Hermione. His heart clenched at the idea that this Matt guy could hurt her too.

"What the hell does he do for a living?"

"Auror for the Ministry," George said. "That's part of the problem right there. Thinks he's tough shit because of what he deals with on a daily basis."

Oliver sighed. "And she won't tell you guys what's going on?"

They shook their heads. "She denies everything. Tells us that we're imagining things. But Ginny's seen the bruises, we all have. Ginny's seen the look in Hermione's eyes when she mentions Matt. There's a flicker of fear, that's what she's told us. And we've noticed a change in Charlotte too. She used to be a happy kid, always bouncing around, getting into whatever mischief she could. Now she's more reserved, more quiet. It's like she's shut down." Fred explained.

"I'll go kill the bastard meself if I find out he's hurt the little lass," Oliver growled.

"No need, we both swore we'd take care of it," George said, his face slightly red in anger.

"I want to talk to Ginny about what she knows. Maybe we're missing something here," Oliver mused aloud.

Back in the kitchen, Ginny was slicing potatoes at the sink, watching the three men walk around the garden.

"Funny he should come back here after all these years," Ginny said as she sliced.

Molly clucked her tongue. "It's good to see him again. I never thought he would come back, honestly. Not with. . .well, the memories around here. . .the ghosts. . ." she trailed off.

Ginny understood. The ghosts of Harry and Ron were everywhere. Too many bittersweet memories to painfully deal with. Just when she'd thought she'd managed to get over things, she would catch a glimpse of the boys' ghosts, her memories playing cruel tricks on her.

The two women sighed as they went back to their tasks.

Just as Ginny was carrying the pot of potatoes over to the stove, the fire flared up in a vivid, emerald green.

Ginny dropped the pot as her beloved goddaughter, Charlotte, came spilling out of the fire, tears streaming down her face, her eyes wide with terror.

"Aunt Ginny! Come quick! Mummy's not moving! Daddy hurt her!" she screamed in horror.

0000

Charlotte heard their screaming even with her door closed. She tried to ignore the awful noise and play with her dolls, but she couldn't block out the horrible words her daddy was yelling at Mummy.

She dropped her dolls and clamped her hands over her ears, eyes squeezed shut as the yelling grew louder. She should be used to this by now, there was rarely a time anymore when her daddy was happy.

She heard something heavy hit the wall on the other side of her bed. Charlotte tried not to imagine what was going on out there. She hoped Mummy was all right. It seemed lately that Mummy could never win against Daddy.

They were all out screaming now. Charlotte was surprised none of the neighbors could hear what was going on. She began to cry; great silent tears were flowing down her cheeks as she rocked back and forth, wishing that Mummy and Daddy would just get along. Wishing that her daddy would pay a little more attention to her, want to play with her, like he used to. Wishing, shamefully, that maybe that nice Oliver Wood man they had seen in the store was her daddy.

"Go to hell!" she heard Mummy scream.

Charlotte's heart stopped. Mummy had never said that to Daddy before, although he really did deserve it. Daddy would be so angry right now. He would hit Mummy again, and Mummy would cry after Daddy stormed out of the flat. Charlotte would try to comfort Mummy and make her stop crying because it made Charlotte sad to see her mummy so hurt. Charlotte would get Mummy a wet rag so she could wipe up the blood that Daddy most likely caused to flow again. And then Mummy would hug her and thank her and tell her that she was a brave little girl, and maybe if they were lucky, maybe they would get out of this mess one day soon.

Charlotte heard a much louder crash this time, sounding as though it was coming from the kitchen. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, praying her mummy was all right. It was hard to think positive anymore, and all she could think of was that her daddy was hurting Mummy again, maybe even worse than he has in the past.

Smaller thuds. . .incoherent voices. . .low this time. . .what was going on out there?

At long last, there was silence. Charlotte cautiously opened her eyes and looked around, scared. She was always more afraid after the screaming stopped, not knowing if it was safe to come out of her room, the one place she tried to hide from everything that happened outside of it.

She stood up and walked silently to her door, sticking her ear next to it to hear any noise outside. There was nothing.

Very slowly, she opened her door, hoping her daddy had finally left the flat. She crept quietly down the short hallway towards the kitchen and the living room, still listening for any sound at all. There was still no noise.

She peeked around the corner into the living room. Daddy was not in there, and neither was Mummy. Her heart began to beat faster.

She peered around the corner into the kitchen, dreading what she was going to see. At first, nothing. But as she crept around the corner completely, her eyes fell on a pair of feet. They weren't moving.

Charlotte ran over. Mummy was sprawled on the floor, her eyes closed. Blood ran from her split lip, and was now starting to congeal on her clothing.

She came closer. Mummy's head was lying in a pool of blood. . .

"Mummy!" she cried, throwing herself down on the ground beside Hermione and shaking her. "Mummy! Wake up, Mummy! Mummy!"

Hermione did not wake up.

Charlotte began to sob. What was she going to do? Daddy had never hurt Mummy this bad before! Mummy never said what to do if something like this should happen. . .

Through her sobs, Charlotte's eyes landed on the Floo pot on the mantle of the fireplace. She looked back down at Hermione, who was still pale and lifeless.

Mummy had always told her never to touch the Floo powder unless she was with her. . .

But Mummy had never been like this before. . .

Charlotte raced over to the fireplace and tried to reach the Floo pot. She was far too short.

She dragged a chair over and climbed up on it. She wrenched the lid off the pot and seized a fistful of the glittering powder and threw it into the fireplace.

Flames erupted in the grate as Charlotte jumped off the chair, still crying. Mummy always told her to make sure she spoke clearly when she was in the Floo fire, otherwise, she could end up in a very bad place. . .

Aunt Ginny would know what to do. . .

She jumped into the flames.

"The Burrow!" she screamed through her sobbing.

She prayed that Mummy would wake up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I own the plot, a few characters, but sadly, everything else is Jo's.

**A.N. **Okay, so I just realized a mistake I made. Back in the first chapter, when I was explaining how Ron died, it was because he saw his father fall at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. But last chapter, when the twins invited Oliver over for dinner, they said that "Ginny, Mum and Dad" would like to hear his take on the situation. My mistake. Mr. Weasley is indeed alive, Ron was going after Bellatrix, not realizing that his father really was still alive. Did I clear that up for everyone now? Hopefully I did. Anyways, read on, give me a review to tell me if you like it or if it sucks or what not. Thanks!

**Help**

**Chapter Four**

Molly dropped her knife and scooped down to pick the hysterical child up.

"Charlotte! What's happened?"

"Mummy! She won't move! Daddy hurt her again!" she sobbed.

The boys burst into the kitchen, looking wildly around. Oliver about died when he saw the look on Charlotte's face.

"What's happened?" George asked.

"Hermione. We have to go!" Ginny said, grabbing the Floo pot off the mantle.

She stepped into the fire without another word and with a roar of the flame, disappeared to Hermione's flat, leaving her mother to take care of Charlotte.

She drew her wand as soon as she stepped out of the fire. There was no telling if Matt was still there in the flat. Charlotte didn't say for certain.

The boys appeared moments later behind her. They walked around hesitantly, until Ginny walked into the kitchen.

"Oh my God," she muttered, her chest suddenly constricting painfully. "Come quick!"

She knelt down next to Hermione, her head in a pool of blood.

"What did he do to her!" Fred yelled as he came around the corner.

George and Oliver joined them. George swore loudly and bent down to see if she still had a pulse. Oliver let loose a stream of colorful Gaelic and felt his heart miss a few beats.

When he caught up with Matt McAllister, he was as good as dead.

"She's still got a pulse!" George announced.

Ginny was crying softly. She couldn't believe that Matt had hurt her this bad this time. She always knew what he was capable of, but didn't expect this to actually happen.

Oliver knelt down and gently probed her neck and the back of her skull for the source of all the blood.

"Fred, know any good healing spells?" he asked quietly.

Fred whipped out his wand and pointed it at Hermione's head. Oliver felt the skin stitch itself back together, but Hermione still remained as still as ever.

Oliver carefully picked her up and cradled her gently in his arms, trying to keep her as still as possible.

"She needs to go to St. Mungo's, Oliver," Ginny said, wiping away her tears. "We don't know what else he did to her."

"Is it safe to Apparate there?" George asked uncertainly.

"She needs something," Oliver said, looking down at her pale and bruised face.

"Take her, then. We'll catch up as soon as we clean things up here and tell Mum where she is," Fred said.

Oliver took a deep breath and spun around, holding Hermione tightly. He hoped to high hell that Apparating wasn't going to hurt her anymore than she already was.

Once he arrived inside St. Mungo's holding Hermione, the next half hour was a blur to him. The Healers quickly whisked her away, to where he didn't know, but they assured him that she would be all right as long as they got her help fast.

He sat in the waiting room, staring at the floor in front of him. How was it that his life could be perfectly normal when he woke up this morning, and now, he found himself waiting to hear if an old friend was going to live or die? He had forgotten about Hermione Granger until a few short hours ago, when he found her lost daughter in the grocery store. And now, because of the bastard she was married to, there was a good chance that Charlotte may not have her mother any longer. And then what would happen to her? She would go right back to her abusive father, and if he hadn't started beating her yet, he probably would without Hermione to kick around any longer.

He looked up when the twins and Ginny Apparated beside him.

"What's the word?" Fred asked as he sat down.

Oliver shook his head. "Nothing, yet. They said they'd do their best. How's the little lass?"

Ginny sniffed. "She's a mess. Mum's tried to calm her down, but I think any sense of innocence the little one had is gone. Imagine finding your mum lying in a pool of blood at six years old. There's going to be lasting damage this time."

Oliver thought about that sweet little face again. The tears, the crumpled look, the wide-eyed look of complete horror that was frozen in her eyes.

He looked away quickly as a few tears threatened.

They sat in silence for a long time after that, waiting for a Healer to come tell them the news. They tried not to think about what could be happening to their friend, and tried not to think of what could happen to Charlotte if Hermione didn't make it.

At long last, after what seemed like hours, a Healer came hurrying through the bustle of the waiting room and stopped in front of them.

"You are the friends of Mrs. McAllister, I presume?"

They all nodded, standing up quickly.

"She's going to make it. We've fixed what damage there was, and have her sedated for the moment. She should be sore for a little while, but she'll pull through, God willing."

"Can we see her?" Ginny asked, her mouth quivering.

"Yes, I don't see the harm in that," the Healer said as he beckoned them to follow him down the long maze of corridors.

They walked in quietly. Hermione was lying, as still as she was when they found her, tucked into a bed, her head wrapped in gauze as a precaution. Her bruised face stood out vividly against the white pillow she was lying on.

They all sat down around her bed, exchanging dark looks.

"How could he do this to her?" Ginny asked, her eyes glistening as she smoothed some hair away from Hermione's face.

"I'll kill him myself," Oliver growled, reaching forward to pick up one of her cold and lifeless hands.

"No need, my friend, we'll get there first," George muttered darkly.

They sat there in silence once more, leaving her side only when another Healer came in to shoo them out.

Tired and weary to the bone, they all Apparated back to the Burrow, hating to leave her there by herself, fearing that Matt would find her and hurt her again.

Molly was sitting on the couch with Charlotte lying next to her, rubbing her back soothingly. The hysterical little girl had fallen asleep only a short while ago, her crying stopping only then.

Arthur Weasley sat in a chair near the fireplace. He stood up when the four walked in, looking sad and tired.

"How is she?" he asked when they walked in.

"They've got her sedated," Ginny said, collapsing onto the other couch and resting her aching head.

"She'll make it, but she'll be there for a few days," George offered up.

"How's Charlotte?" Oliver inquired, watching the sleeping child.

"I only got her to sleep a little while ago. I gave her a bit of a Calming Draught to try and quiet her down, but it didn't work. I think she finally just wore herself out." Molly said softly, still rubbing Charlotte's back.

"How could we let this happen?" Arthur muttered angrily. "We saw the bruises! Why didn't we do anything before this?"

"She told us to stay out of it, that she could handle it herself," Fred muttered with his eyes closed.

"We shouldn't have listened to her," George said sadly.

"We never saw Matt capable of doing this. He had us running blind," Ginny said quietly.

"Any idea where he went off to?" Arthur asked.

They all shook their heads.

"He had better hope to stay out of sight. I'll kill him myself when I see him," Oliver growled.

Arthur looked over at him appraisingly, but said nothing.

"Why don't you all get some sleep? We can all go see her in the morning," Molly suggested, lifting the sleeping Charlotte in her arms.

"Mum, I'll take her," Ginny said, standing up and taking her goddaughter with her up the stairs to her room.

She conjured another bed with the flick of her wand and laid Charlotte's sleeping form down carefully, trying not to disturb her.

Ginny threw on some pajamas and crawled into her own bed, turning on her side and watching Charlotte sleep. All she could hope was that Matt wouldn't come looking for this precious child and hurt her as well.

She would do everything imaginable to protect her friend and her daughter from now on.

0000

Hermione awoke, completely disoriented, her head throbbing, and absolutely terrified out of her mind. She didn't know where she was, what had happened, or where Charlotte was.

Worst of all, she had no idea where Matt was hiding.

She struggled to sit up, but her throbbing head, and other lesser injuries, objected most painfully to any movement whatsoever.

She finally figured out where she was when a Healer poked her head through the door.

"Ah, you're awake!" she said approvingly. "How do you feel?"

Hermione gritted her teeth, annoyed. "How do you think I feel?"

The Healer clucked her tongue as she checked her over. "Understandable, after what happened."

She closed her eyes briefly. "What exactly did happen to me?"

The Healer looked at her, concerned. "Slight memory loss," she noted to the clipboard that was following behind her as she worked.

The clipboard made a note.

"Your husband," the Healer said softly, uncertain as to how she should phrase what happened.

It all came flooding back. The pain in her neck and head, the split and swollen lip, the blood, Matt, and the crazed look in his eyes. . .

"Oh God," she groaned. "Where is my daughter?"

"I believe she is staying with some friends of yours. The Weasleys?"

Hermione nodded. "Where is Matt?"

"Your husband?" the Healer clarified.

She nodded again.

"No idea. He hasn't been here though, rest assured. We wouldn't let that happen."

Hermione sank further back into her pillows. "When can I get out of here?"

"When we're satisfied with your condition," the Healer said evasively.

Hermione groaned again and tried to drift back off to sleep.

She just wanted to find someplace where she could feel safe.

0000

Finally, after a few days in St. Mungo's, the Healers discharged her to the care of the Weasleys with strict instructions that she was to take it easy for the next week.

She was wheeled out to the waiting room in a wheelchair, Charlotte skipping along beside her. It was the first time in days that Hermione had seen her, and she was ungodly worried about what kind of lasting effects that Charlotte was experiencing from finding Hermione lying unconscious and beaten like she was.

"Charlotte, are you okay?" Hermione asked her as she was wheeled along.

"I'm fine, Mummy. I was so scared though. Why was Daddy so mad?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know, baby," she murmured.

Later, when Hermione was safely ensconced in a warm afghan on the couch with a cup of hot tea, Ginny came and settled herself beside her best friend, looking at her seriously.

"I'm fine now, Gin, if that's what's on your mind," Hermione said softly, looking at her friend over the rim of her cup.

Ginny shook her head. "No, you're not. I can tell."

Hermione sighed. "You were always able to see right through me."

Ginny shook her head. "If I was, I would have been able to keep this from happening to you."

This time, Hermione shook her head. "No, you wouldn't have. I didn't see it coming. I never thought he could explode like that. . ."

"But he's hurt you before," Ginny stated, watching Hermione for a reaction.

Hermione set her cup down. "Yes, Ginny, he has."

"Then why wouldn't you let us help you?"

Hermione shook her head. "I know you could see what was going on. But I thought that if I just pretended that it wasn't happening, then it would all just go away."

Ginny looked exasperated. "Hermione, even you know that's a bunch of bull."

"I do. I guess I didn't want to believe that my marriage was failing. I don't know where I went wrong."

"You didn't go wrong. Whatever it is, it's his problem, not yours."

Hermione smiled sadly. "You know what he said to me that day? Before he really went nuts? He said he couldn't trust me anymore. He said I was cheating on him. With Oliver."

Ginny made a noise halfway between a growl and a laugh. "You have got to be kidding me!"

"No, I'm not. He also said I was a failure at being a wife. He told me I was raising Charlotte the wrong way, even. How does he rationalize that one?"

Ginny shook her head, disgusted. "_You're_ raising Charlotte the wrong way? What the hell? He's the one that comes home drunk off his ass every night!"

Hermione nodded. "He was bitching about me being gone so long when Charlotte and I went grocery shopping that day. He had me followed."

Ginny looked stunned. "He had you followed?"

"That's why he knew about Oliver. He thought that Oliver was 'making a pass at me.' Whatever the hell that shit's about."

"I think the alcohol is starting to affect his brain," Ginny said finally.

"There's something wrong with him, Ginny. When it all started a few years ago, it was because he was having terrible flashbacks about the Final Battle. I was just trying to reason with him that he needed to talk to someone about it. He wouldn't talk to me about anything, so I tried to get him help. That's when it started to go downhill."

She looked horrified. "You've been putting up with him for a few years now?"

Hermione nodded sadly. "I thought I could fix him, Gin."

"He hasn't hurt Charlotte, has he?"

"Not that I know of. Charlotte would tell me, I could tell if he was."

Ginny shook her head, knowing the answer to her next question. "You're going to go back to him, aren't you?"

"I have to, Gin. If I don't, he'll find me eventually, and he'll make me come back."

Ginny's face hardened. "No, you don't have to go back. He wouldn't find you. You could stay here with us, and we'd be able to keep you safe."

Hermione smiled sadly again. "As wonderful as that sounds to me, Gin, we both know that it wouldn't work. Charlotte would love it, I'm sure, but you don't know what he's capable of. He's got his connections at the Ministry, he's an Auror for Christ's sake! It wouldn't last."

Ginny turned to face Hermione, sitting cross-legged. "I just have one question for you, then."

"What?"

"Why didn't you use your magic to defend yourself all along?"

Hermione looked down, ashamed.

Ginny looked alarmed. "Hermione?"

When she looked back up, her eyes were full of tears.

"I'm a failure, Gin."

"Tell me what's wrong."

"I don't want to use my magic. I may have returned to the magical world after I met Matt, but I don't want to use it. Magic destroyed my life the first time, and I thought that if I just quit using it all together, it wouldn't ruin me again. Magic took Harry and Ron away from me, and I didn't want to lose Matt either. But I guess it's happened anyway, no matter how much I refused to see it."

Ginny knew there was more. "It's not just the beatings, is it?"

A few tears leaked out and trailed down Hermione's face. "He's used the Imperious Curse on me."

Ginny jumped from the couch, completely horrified. "Oh, my God."

Hermione started to sob. "I was completely submissive to his command the first few times. I was disgusted with myself for allowing it to happen."

Ginny stopped pacing and turned to face Hermione, her face completely terrified. "The first few times? Jesus, Hermione! He's done it more than once!"

She bowed her head, completely ashamed. "I began to fight it after awhile. He hasn't used it in awhile. He knows it won't work anymore."

"Christ, that's no reason to stay with him!"

"I stay with him so he can't hurt Charlotte," she gasped out through her sobbing.

"That doesn't make sense, Hermione! He can hurt her just as easily by staying with him!"

"I can't leave him! If I do, he'll find us! And when he does, he'll take Charlotte away from me and lock me away!" she yelled, absolutely distraught by now.

Ginny stopped and looked at her. "What do you mean, he'll take her away and lock you up?"

Hermione heaved a great shuddering breath. "He's threatened me. He told me if I were to take Charlotte and leave, he would find us, and he would have me declared unstable and an unfit mother and lock me up in St. Mungo's loony ward. He would take Charlotte away from me, and I would never see her again. I can't leave him, Ginny, or I'll lose my little girl!"

Ginny sat down right on the floor, her head spinning. There was more to all this than she realized, and it was literally tearing Hermione apart.

0000

Hearing the raised voices in the living room, Oliver and the twins went to investigate. But once they heard snatches of the conversation, they stopped and stayed out of sight, listening to what was being said, and what they knew they wouldn't find out if they revealed themselves.

"He's used the Imperious Curse on me," they heard Hermione say softly.

The three looked around at each other, their eyes wide with shock and anger.

They listened to Ginny cry out in disbelief. "The first few times? Jesus, Hermione! He's done it more than once!"

"I began to fight it after awhile. He hasn't used it in awhile. He knows it won't work anymore."

Oliver stood seething in rage. The bastard thought he could control her with the Imperius Curse, huh?

They listened to Hermione break down in sobs as she explained the deeper root to the problem.

"I can't leave him! If I do, he'll find us! And when he does, he'll take Charlotte away from me and lock me away!"

The three of them froze, about to walk in and interrupt the conversation before Hermione became anymore agitated.

"What do you mean, he'll take her away and lock you up?"

"He's threatened me. He told me if I were to take Charlotte and leave, he would find us, and he would have me declared unstable and an unfit mother and lock me up in St. Mungo's loony ward. He would take Charlotte away from me, and I would never see her again. I can't leave him, Ginny, or I'll lose my little girl!"

"The bastard," Fred muttered furiously.

Oliver felt his blood pulsing through his veins. Never before had he felt more protective of anyone in his life, except for maybe his little sister. There was no reason for Hermione to put up with this kind of treatment, especially if it meant that she would be locked away and have Charlotte taken away from her if she left him.

Oliver couldn't stand listening to Hermione cry any longer. He marched purposefully into the living room, past Ginny, who was sitting on the floor, looking completely stunned, and sat down on the couch with Hermione.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, allowing her to sob unrestrainedly into his shoulder.

There had to be a solution to this mess. He would find a way to make things right for Hermione and Charlotte. There was no reason for them to live in fear like this.

He would make sure of it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, a few characters, but sadly, everything else is Jo's.

**A.N**. All I got was four reviews for the last chapter, but yet, I had over a hundred hits on it? What the hell is up with that, folks? Let me know what you think! I don't care if you think it's absolute rubbish, just LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK, DANG IT! I'm so sorry that it took me so long to post this chapter. These past two weeks have been absolutely insane, and the past week alone I was bogged down with the news that my skin cancer had returned, so I was dealing with that, and I didn't exactly feel like writing. But I knew that you guys would hate me forever if I didn't post soon, so here it is. And a special thanks to my beta, Moondagger666.

**Help **

**Chapter Five**

Hermione and Charlotte spent a good week resting at the Weasleys. Charlotte certainly wasn't complaining; between the ungodly amounts of food that Molly kept cooking up, and the fact that Fred and George made it their personal mission to get Charlotte on a broomstick every day after they came home from the shop, she was quickly returning to the happy little girl she was before things got bad at home with Matt.

Hermione felt much better now that her head had completely healed and her face was no longer bruised. She was, however, heartily embarrassed for sobbing on Oliver's shoulder the other night, and was even more embarrassed that he came for dinner every night and always chose to sit next to her.

Oliver noticed her discomfort, and found it quite cute.

'Cute? Did I just think that her discomfort was cute? The hell's wrong with me?' he thought while shaking his head in disgust.

He did find it rather amusing though, that her face would turn a light shade of pink when she realized he was looking at her.

Hermione, however, did not find it amusing at all.

'Probably thinks I'm a complete cad for staying with Matt. Honestly, why does he have to stare at me like this? I know the bruises are still there, and I know I practically sobbed the entire Atlantic Ocean on him the other night, but really!' she thought to herself miserably.

After dinner was over and the dishes were washed and put away, George and Fred stood up and stretched, making rather a show of it.

"Well, now that we've all had fourths of everything," Fred started, but Ginny snorted.

"Really, now, Fred, I do believe it was only you who had fourths of everything. Most of us aren't such pigs."

"_Anyways, _as I was saying," he continued, shooting Ginny a very dirty look, "I reckon we need a little exercise, wouldn't you agree, George?"

"Quite," his twin said after burping richly.

"Absolute animal," Ginny muttered disgustedly.

Charlotte, who had been sitting quietly with her head resting in her hands, perked up immediately.

"Charlotte, how about another round of Quidditch?"

She hopped up immediately. "Let me go grab my broom!"

Hermione looked over at the twins rather appraisingly. "No funny stuff, or I'll have both your heads as lovely wall mounts."

They pretended to look offended. "Who, us?"

Hermione giggled. "Precisely who I'm talking about."

"Then come out and watch us, then. You'd be surprised at the skill that little bugger of yours has. She's amazing!" George gushed.

She stood up. "All right then. I'd like to see this for myself."

Charlotte came rushing back into the kitchen, literally skidding to a halt in front of her uncles.

"Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!" she screeched, pulling on their arms to get them out the door.

"Charlie! Take it easy!" Hermione called after her daughter's retreating back as she followed them more slowly out to the paddock where they practiced.

The air had turned cool, so after wrestling an indignant Charlotte into a sweater, Hermione conjured a blanket and wrapped herself in it as she sat on the grass, watching the three fly around gracefully above her head.

She had to admit, the twins were right. Charlotte had developed a remarkable ease on the broom, she glided around gracefully as if there were nothing to support her endeavors in the air. Hermione felt a swell of pride grow in her heart. Despite that the talent came from Matt, as Hermione was about as graceful on a broomstick as a bull rhino.

She could hear Charlotte's squeals of happiness as the twins swooped around with her, and her absolute screams of delight when Fred showed her how to do a careful loop in the air.

"Fred! That's enough! Teach her anymore and I'll never be able to get her off that broom!" she called up to him.

He gave her a naughty grin in return and zoomed upwards to pull off a neat loop followed by a barrel roll.

"Where's the fun without the risk, eh, Hermione?" he called to her as he flashed past.

"I'll give you risk, Fred Weasley!" she bellowed after him.

"Teaching the little lass more than she should know?" a voice asked in her ear.

She jumped and turned a little to see Oliver sit down next to her. "You scared me!"

"Sorry 'bout that," he said in his lilting Scottish brogue.

They sat in silence for awhile, watching the twins and Charlotte chase each other around. Hermione felt slight twinges of embarrassment, but shoved them aside and berated herself silently for being such an idiot.

'He was being a friend. That's what friends do, comfort you when you're miserable,' she yelled at herself in her head.

"The little lass has talent," Oliver commented as he watched her zoom into another loop.

"She knows more than she should," Hermione mused, watching as George corrected her tiny grip on the handle.

"She's a natural-born Quidditch player."

"Hmmm," Hermione said through tightly stitched lips.

Oliver realized he hit a slight nerve. "I'm sorry. I should have realized that was going to lead back to him."

"It's fine. I just wish. . ." she trailed off, not wanting to voice was she really wished.

"Wha' do you wish, Hermione?" Oliver asked quietly, seeing the look of fear cross her face.

She muttered something under her breath.

"Wha' do you wish?" he asked again, leaning in towards her.

Their shoulders were touching.

She took a deep breath, feeling his shoulder touching hers. "I wish she had someone to love her the way she needs to be loved."

Oliver watched the way she stared at the ground in front of her, her frown evident in the failing light of dusk, and the tone of her voice that suggested she hated herself for wishing the things she did.

"Has it always been this bad?" he asked softly.

She shook her head. "Things didn't get bad until she was about four. I expect she has no idea what it is to have a daddy who loves her. She won't remember the good times. She only knows the rage, the anger, and the tears."

Not knowing what he was doing, he draped an arm around her shoulders. "You'd be surprised what the lass remembers."

She leaned into him, feeling his warmth. "I wish she had a better place to grow up. I don't want this to affect her for life."

Oliver sighed. "There was no reason for him to threaten to take Charlotte away if you took off with her and left him."

She nodded against his shoulder. "I don't want to lose her. And I don't want to be locked up in St. Mungo's."

Oliver felt the monster in his chest awaken at those words. "I don't want that to happen to you, either."

"I just wish there was some way to get away from him for good. To just leave him, and not worry about him finding us."

Oliver thought for awhile. He knew the perfect solution, but he didn't want to say it aloud. She would never go for it.

'And I wish I could take you and the lass back with me so I could keep you away from that raving bastard you call a husband,' he thought sadly, feeling her scoot slightly closer to his warmth.

Up above them, the twins noticed what was going on, and exchanged knowing grins.

"Knew he'd crack sooner or later!" Fred called to his brother.

"Too right he has! And I'll bet you ten Galleons there's gonna be an invitation to his place that's good any time!"

"And rightfully so!"

"Anything to get them out of the hands of that bloody bastard she's stuck with!"

They both laughed conspiratorially.

Only when Charlotte landed directly in front of Hermione and Oliver did the two separate, looking embarrassed and awkward.

"Charlotte!" Hermione squeaked out, scrambling away from Oliver and standing up.

"We can't see to fly anymore," she explained almost apologetically.

Hermione noticed the look in Charlotte's eyes and seized her hand to walk back to the house.

'She's too damn smart for her own good,' Hermione thought darkly.

Charlotte, on the other hand, was delighted. She saw how at ease Mummy was with Oliver, and she'd actually seen her smile and laugh with him, something Mummy hadn't done with Daddy in years.

'I wish Daddy could be like that. I wish Oliver could be my daddy,' Charlotte thought sadly as she was marched away.

Oliver watched Hermione literally run away with Charlotte and felt something inside him twinge painfully. He noticed how the once straight and proud back seemed smaller, wilted. The only life and happiness he saw was when she was taking care of Charlotte.

'But then, why was she so close to me just now?' he questioned.

'Because she was looking for comfort and support,' he reasoned with himself.

'You made her smile,' he reminded himself.

He shook his head. He was being ridiculous. She made it clear that she couldn't leave Matt.

'She could be thinking about it, though,' he tried to argue.

The twins landed on either side of him.

"What's got your knickers in a knot, Ollie?" George asked.

Fred followed Oliver's line of vision. He was still watching Hermione walk away with Charlotte.

"Ahhh, ickle Ollie-kins has an ickle soft spot for our favorite book worm," Fred stated wisely.

"Sod off," Oliver said, but he didn't put much effort into it.

George clapped him on the shoulder. "Ollie, my friend, as much as we all want her to get away from Matt, it's not going to happen unless something truly bad happens."

"But if only I could convince the lass," Oliver tried to reason halfheartedly.

"We've tried," Fred said. "Nothing works. She doesn't want to admit that she's failed at something, even if it isn't her fault in the least."

"She's going to go back to him," Oliver sighed.

"Yes, she will. And we will argue with her, _again,_ but she won't listen to us, _again_. You might as well give up, Oliver," George said.

"I was going to tell her if she ever needed a safe place to go where he couldn't find her, she could bring the little lass to my place, seaside."

The twins exchanged looks. This was exactly what they were hoping for. They knew that if Oliver could just get through to her, then maybe, just maybe. . .

"You do that, Ollie. Maybe it will open her eyes a little bit," Fred said cheerfully.

They saw Oliver physically brighten up. His shoulders quit sagging, and he straightened his posture to stand as tall as he could. They cracked identical grins.

"Maybe I will," he said before marching away.

"He looks all the world like a man in love," George said, rolling his eyes.

"And he had forgotten she had existed until a week ago," Fred sighed, shaking his head.

* * *

Oliver found himself sitting, once more, in his study, back at home once more. Hermione had taken Charlotte and left the Weasleys the day after he had struck up his offer. He thought about it again, as he had every night since he had come back home a week ago.

Flashback

'_What am I going to say to her? Hermione, if he's beating the hell out of you and you want to get away from him and not get caught, you can come shack up with me for awhile? Ah, bloody hell! That will never work!' he thought as he walked inside the house. _

_She wasn't anywhere to be found downstairs, which meant that she had taken Charlotte upstairs to put her to bed. _

_He walked up the stairs quietly, hoping that if the little lass was indeed in bed and asleep that he wouldn't wake her again. _

_He found Hermione creeping out of the bedroom they were sharing with Ginny, shutting the door quietly behind her. She caught sight of him and smiled shyly. _

_"It didn't take much for her to fall asleep. Fred and George know how to wear her out," she whispered. _

_"Would yeh like to join me for a cup of tea?" he asked. It just slipped out. _

_She thought for a moment, then nodded. "I'd like that." _

_He motioned for her to lead the way downstairs and followed after her. _

_They made their tea the way they liked and retreated to the living room, where a small fire had been lit in the fireplace to ward off the chill in the air. _

_They sat in silence for a long time, just listening to the fire crackle and drinking their tea. _

_"Have you thought about what you'll do?" he asked, breaking the silence. _

_She lowered her cup. "I'm going back. Tomorrow. I don't want to impose on Molly and Arthur for longer than I have to." _

_His heart sank. "Is there anything I can-" _

_"There is nothing you can say that will make me change my mind. I have to go back," she said, cutting across him. _

_He too lowered his cup. "Hermione," he said firmly. _

_She looked up at him through her eyelashes, her teacup raised to her lips. _

_"I want you to know, if there is anything you ever need, anything at all," he started. _

_She opened her mouth to speak, but he help up a hand to stop her. _

_"No, just listen. If there is anything you need, or if you need a place to stay, one where he can't find you or the little lass, my place is always there. All you have to do is Apparate or Floo there." _

_She opened her mouth to speak once more, closed it, then looked away. Oliver was suddenly afraid that he had overstepped his boundaries. _

_When she turned back, her eyes were glistening in the firelight. "Thank you, Oliver. I will remember that."_

**End Flashback**

The next day, she and Charlotte were gone before breakfast. It had been a week since he had last seen her, and there was no word from her at all. He couldn't help but worry; she was the first thing on his mind in the morning and the last person he thought about before he went to sleep at night.

All the worry was driving him mad. It took a lot of self control for him not to just show up at their flat just to make sure that she was all right. If the bastard had her followed that day at the supermarket, there was no telling if he had her followed while she was staying at the Weasleys, and if she was, then he would know about Oliver, and the fact that Oliver had stayed there for as long as she had been there.

Which would equate to one extremely irrational Matt McAllister, a Matt McAllister that had put his wife in St. Mungo's for a few days because of his anger.

Oliver got up and started pacing the length of the room. He had been in contact with the twins daily since he left, asking them if there was any word from Hermione at all.

Ginny had spoken to her the day after she had left, but Ginny was refusing to comment on what they had talked about, and was remaining tight-lipped about the whole thing.

That made Oliver worry even more. If Ginny was refusing to speak about whatever they had talked about, then there was something going on. But even if it was Matt beating her again, Ginny would have told them about it. She wouldn't keep quiet about that.

Oliver had just about worn a hole in the carpet when he received a huge shock. He turned around to find his little sister sitting in the chair behind his desk.

He stumbled backwards, tripped over the bunched up area rug, and landed on his butt with a loud thump.

"Rhianna. . .the bloody hell. . .where did yeh. . .don't bloody well scare me like that!" he spluttered, standing up and rubbing his painful backside.

"Hello, Ollie," she said, smirking at his reaction.

"Don't smirk at me, you little bugger!"

She lifted a hand to her heart and pulled off a grimace. "Ouch, that hurt me right here, you puffed up maniac," she teased.

His heart rate returned to normal as he walked over to his sister. It had been awhile since he had last seen her, and now that he had recovered from his near heart attack, he was quite happy to see her.

"It's good to see yeh again, Rhianna," he said, pulling her up out of his chair and giving her a hug before settling himself in the chair.

"Hey!" she protested. "I was gettin' comfortable there!"

He grinned up at her. "Exactly. It's my chair. That's why it's comfortable. Couldn't very well have me little sister sittin' in it, now could I?"

She threw him a nasty look and sat down in the recliner off to the side of his desk.

"How's the team?"

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Have yeh not read the papers?"

"When yer dealin' with giant lizards that can throw fire over fifty feet and burn yeh to a crisp at any given moment, that doesna leave time in the day to enjoy such fanciful frivolities," she said scornfully.

"Fair point. How's Charlie gettin' on then?"

"He's gettin' on. He's the one that told me to come see you. Thought he'd be a gentleman and give me a month off. It's been, what, since Christmas since I have seen yeh last?"

Oliver nodded. "Mum and Da will be pleased. Have yeh been to see them yet?"

Rhianna nodded. "I've been home nigh on four days."

Oliver pretended to look offended. "And yeh just now decided yeh fancied a chat with yer beloved older brother?"

She looked at him sternly. "Actually, I've been doin' some thinkin'. Yeh wanna know the real reason Charlie sent me home?"

Oliver shrugged. "Because he thought yeh could use a bit of a break from the overgrown, fire-breathin' lizards?"

"Why is it I have to hear about me older brother and his love affairs through yer best friends' older brother?"

He looked puzzled. "Love affairs?"

She smirked. "A certain Hermione Granger?"

"McAllister," he corrected automatically.

Her smirk widened. "Quite taken with her, eh, Ollie?"

Oliver sat back in his chair and frowned. "Did Charlie not tell yeh the reason why I've suddenly met up with her again?"

She sat back in her chair as well, her arms crossed. "I've heard her husband is smackin' her around."

Oliver shook his head. "He put her in St. Mungo's about two weeks ago."

Rhianna's face grew dark and she actually growled. "And she's done nothin' to defend herself, then?"

Oliver shook his head again. "Charlie didna tell yeh the half of it. Her husband told her if she left and took their little girl, he'd track them down and he'd put her in St. Mungo's mental ward."

She whistled low. "That's no reason to put up with that."

"I've told her if she needs to find a place to hide, I'm here."

"You mean, the house is here."

Oliver sighed. He knew training would start again soon. "It hurt to see her bruised. I only remembered her as the little bookworm when I left school. To see her, grown up, with a _child_, and allowing herself to get thrown around by that bastard, it made me realize what time could do to people. She still hurts from losing Harry Potter and Weasley."

She nodded. "That's why she gave up magic."

"Yeah."

Rhianna remained quiet for a few moments. But when she sat up with this look on her face, Oliver knew she had some plan in store.

"Well, it looks like I'm just goin' to have to educate our little bookworm on defendin' herself."

Oliver looked surprised. "What? No, Rhianna, you can't do that!"

She looked innocent. "And just why not?"

Oliver sighed. "Because I know how things usually come out when yeh do some educatin', that's why."

She looked indignant. "And just what's that supposed to mean?"

He rolled his eyes. "Do you remember what happened to the poor bastard the last time you did some educatin'?"

She feigned deep thought, tapping her chin with her finger. "Ah, you mean the time when I told a good friend to get rid of the bastard of a man she was datin'?"

"Precisely."

"Oh, come on, Ollie! The bastard came out of it with a few broken bones! He was still alive! Does that not count for somethin'?"

Oliver looked incredulous. "A _few_ broken bones! As I recall, the poor bastard had a broken nose, a busted eye socket, half his ribs smashed to bits, a broken arm and a leg! A _few _broken bones?"

Rhianna picked at a bit of skin on her thumb. "Yes, well, that's what he deserved for cheatin' on the poor lass and then lying to her about it."

"I shall have pity on the man who ever decides to try and get close to yeh," Oliver muttered, shaking his head.

She jumped up out of her chair. "Oliver! Don't tell me yeh have not thought about huntin' down the man yerself and killin' him!"

Oliver had the decency to look guilty.

"Exactly. I rest me case."

"She won't listen to yeh. I've tried, the Weasleys have all tried. There's nothin' yeh can do. She doesna want to hear about it at all."

"Even if it means savin' the wee one?"

Oliver thought for a moment. "I have enough faith in her to think that she would leave him if he ever hurt Charlotte."

"Can yeh swear on it?"

He remained silent.

"Precisely what I'm talkin' about. Someone needs to wake her up to the danger she is continually placing herself and the lass in. We want her around for awhile. You do, especially."

Oliver looked up, indignant, but Rhianna had walked out of the room, putting an end to the conversation on her terms.

"Blasted women," he muttered, hauling himself out of his chair to make sure Rhianna wasn't about to do anything stupid and rash.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, a few characters, but sadly, everything else is Jo's.

**A.N.** Okay, so I've come to the conclusion that school is made to destroy my life. That's why I haven't been able to update, because I've been swamped with work. But here it is! The much anticipated sixth chappie! Read, review, and enjoy!

**Help**

**Chapter Six**

Hermione arrived with Charlotte back at their flat at long last. As it had been when she came back from the store the day that Matt had put her in St. Mungo's, the flat was silent. It scared her now more than ever, as she remembered vividly what happened the last time she came home to a silent flat.

Charlotte pulled away from Hermione and dragged her small overnight bag with her to her room. Hermione started to protest, but decided to let it go. She was tired and worn out from dealing with everything, and didn't want to argue with her little girl on top of it all.

Oliver's offer was still ringing in her ears as she walked through the silent flat, making sure things were intact. The way his hand felt warm on her shoulder when he tried to comfort her still lingered as she cleaned up the empty beer bottles on the floor of the living room. His eyes haunted her as she threw away old garbage left strewn around the kitchen.

She stopped in the middle of the kitchen, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. This would never do. Matt was an accomplished enough Legilimens to be able to see what was going on inside her head. If he saw what she was seeing, and feeling, she could very well end up dead this time.

She picked up her overnight bag and carried it to their bedroom. The bed was unmade and the covers were strewn about haphazardly. When she walked into the room, there was a feeling that something was amiss, but she couldn't quite place it. At first, she wasn't paying attention, but once she had emptied her bag and turned to straighten the bed, she realized what was wrong.

As she pulled the sheets up along the bed, a smell hit her nose. The smell of perfume. Not the kind that Hermione would wear. Something unidentifiable, something over the top, made to impress. Hermione didn't like the perfumes that smelled like that.

When she bent down a second time to pull the comforter up, something half hidden under the bed caught her eye. She picked it up by the tips of her fingers and felt her stomach plummet.

It was a lacy pink bra. Hermione didn't have any lacy pink bras.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes filling with tears. So this is why he hadn't come to drag her home. He was taking advantage of having her out of the house so he could fool around. So he could have his freedom back.

'He must have chosen a smart one,' she thought bitterly. 'For her not to notice a little girls room full of toys directly next to our bedroom.'

She gave a great sniff and then stood up. There was no use crying about it. She had her sneaking suspicions about his faithfulness for awhile now. At least she could stop wondering if he was.

She walked into Charlotte's room. She was playing quietly with her dollhouse.

"Hi, Mummy," she said, not looking up from her play.

"Did you unpack your bag?"

"Yes, Mummy."

Hermione sat down on the edge of Charlotte's bed and watched her play, thinking about what her next step would be.

"Mummy?" Charlotte's face hovered in front of Hermione's eyes.

Startled, Hermione shook her head to clear it and put a hand to her daughter's face. "What, Charlie?"

"Are you okay? Your eyes look red."

"I'm fine, baby. I'm just sad, that's all."

Charlotte looked worried. "Why are you sad?"

Hermione shook her head. "I've just found something out about Daddy, that's all."

Charlotte looked scared. "Something bad?"

Hermione sniffed back the tears that were welling up again. "Just that Daddy doesn't love Mummy the way he used to, baby."

Charlotte looked sad. "Daddy doesn't love us anymore?"

Sighing, Hermione pulled Charlotte to sit in her lap. "Oh, sweetie. I'm sure Daddy still loves you. He just has a funny way of showing it."

Charlotte leaned her head against Hermione's shoulder. "I wish Oliver was my daddy."

Shocked, Hermione tilted her head to look at her little girl. "Charlotte Grace!"

"It's true! Oliver is nice and he likes you! And you like him! He likes to play with me and he knows about Quidditch! He flew with me and Uncle Fred and Uncle George and told me that I fly really good!"

Hermione listened carefully for any sign of Matt. "Charlie, you must never let your father hear that, do you understand me? It's very important that he never hears about Oliver and what you just said. We could get very hurt."

The fear that had haunted Charlotte's eyes before staying at the Weasleys returned. "Daddy would hurt you again?"

Hermione nodded. "You must never talk about Oliver in front of him. Promise me!"

"I promise, Mummy."

Hermione set Charlotte down and let her go back to playing with her dollhouse. She felt the unexplainable urge to write to Ginny, even though she had just seen her hours before.

She went to the desk in the living room and sat down, pulling some parchment and a quill out. Scribbling quickly, in case Matt came back before she was finished, she wrote out the latest developments in the ongoing saga and sealed the parchment with a secrecy charm that only Ginny and she knew about.

She tied the letter to her owl's leg and carried him over to the window to see him off. She watched him soar off into the cool air. She watched until she could no longer see him, and still she stayed at the window, thinking.

* * *

The week following her homecoming was nerve-wracking. Matt didn't come home once. He had no idea that Hermione had returned with Charlotte. He was probably out sleeping with every whore he could get his cheating hands on.

Hermione sat on the couch, attempting to read a magazine, but was really thinking about Oliver. She was also listening closely for any sign that Matt might have returned home.

Apparently, she allowed herself to get too wrapped up in her thoughts.

The presence of a hand on her shoulder yanked her out of her musings. She gasped, jumping and whirling around to find Matt behind her.

"You're home," he said simply.

"Matt! You scared me!" she managed out.

He stepped back. "Sorry." His face remained blank, calm.

She hesitated, confused. "It's all right." She started around him, intent on making a cup of tea.

He grabbed her elbow. She flinched, but stopped and turned to look at him.

"Hermione," he said.

She remained silent, waiting.

"I missed you," he said.

She still remained silent.

"I feel terrible about what I did."

She felt the urge to scoff, but kept it down. She was not going to set him off.

"I'm sorry," he said, laying a hand on her cheek.

She flinched, but looked him in the eye. She tried to keep the fear out as she looked at him, hoping he couldn't read what she was fighting to keep locked away in her mind.

He kissed her, and she kissed back, full of shame. She felt like she was betraying Oliver. The urge to pull away from Matt's grasp was overwhelming, and without thinking, she did.

He looked at her, but his eyes showed no trace of confusion. The slightest flicker of anger showed through, though he was doing a good job of hiding it.

"Matt," she said, unsure of what she wanted to say.

He watched her carefully, like a cat watching a mouse.

"Don't. . .don't lie to me," she said finally.

He arched an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest. "Lie to you?"

"Don't. . .don't say that you missed me. Don't lie about that."

"But I did miss you."

Fear mixed with anger, boiling rage. She wanted to fly at him, to smack him senseless, to make him feel some ounce of the constant pain he put her through these past few years.

"No, you didn't! If you did, you would have come crawling to me, begging me for forgiveness! But you didn't!"

"I would have come crawling back to you?"

"But instead, you were out drinking, you left this place a disaster, and you let another woman sleep in our bed!" she shrieked.

"How do you figure?"

Snarling, she ran into their bedroom, grabbing the lacy pink bra from the bed and stalking back into the living room. She stuck it in his face, shaking it, wanting him to come up with a lame excuse.

"This isn't mine, Matt! So who the hell's it belong to? Huh?" She threw it down at his feet, disgusted to even be touching it.

He glared at her. "What the hell was I supposed to do with you gone?"

"You could have solved this years ago by just getting yourself some fucking help!" she shrieked again.

"There is nothing wrong with me!" he bellowed.

"You call beating me to a pulp and threatening to have me locked away in St. Mungo's normal? Let me tell you something, Matt! I'm tired of this shit! I'm tired of living in fear that the littlest thing is going to set you off and that maybe the next time I'll wind up dead because of your fucking rages! I'm not putting up with it anymore!"

"It's your fault that I get mad!" he yelled, advancing on her.

"What the hell could I have possibly done to have you put me in fucking St. Mungo's!" she screamed indignantly. "It's always my fault, isn't it, Matt? It's never anything you've done! Sure, I go out and get drunk off my ass every night, I come home and take advantage of my wife, I never play with my little girl anymore, I beat the shit out of my wife and leave my little girl to find her and scar her innocent little mind for the rest of her life, and I fucking threaten to lock my wife away in the loony bin if she fucking leaves my abusiveness with my little girl! But no, it's never my fault, it's always the woman's fault! That's all I am now, right Matt? I'm just the woman who takes care of the house and puts food on the table!"

He scowled at her, absolutely furious. "You don't have a fucking clue, Hermione!"

"Then why don't you try to enlighten me instead of keeping me in the fucking dark!"

His face was nearing purple. "You. . .you don't. . .it's not. . .you can't. . .IT'S NOT THAT FUCKING EASY!"

Hermione was nearly tearing her hair out in exasperation. "Why can you not tell me anything! Do you not want to live your life with me! Do you regret every fucking thing we've done together! Do you not want to come home to the beautiful face of the daughter you and I created! What is it, Matt? Why are you cheating on me!"

"I was fucking drunk! I didn't know what I was doing!"

"You're always fucking drunk, Matt! So don't give me your bullshit excuses, because they won't fucking work!"

"I'm not always drunk!"

"The hell you aren't! Even Charlotte knows what's wrong! You don't fucking play with her anymore, you yelled at her that day we went shopping because she was blocking your fucking view of the television, and you haven't told her you fucking love her in I don't know how long! What's the story, Matt?"

His wand was drawn even before she could blink.

"Don't you think that I've gone soft, you bitch. I don't fucking let anyone talk to me like you are, do you understand me?"

Hermione let out a snarl of fury. "Don't you _dare_ think of trying to play that fucking card with me, Matt. I'm not afraid of you anymore."

"Oh no?" He advanced on her a few more inches.

Hermione tried to keep a cool head. "You fucking think you can intimidate me? I'm through with your kiddie antics, Matt. You can't fucking bully me any longer."

His wand was pointed right between her eyes. "Oh, I can't, eh? What are you going to do, Hermione? Huh? Where's your wand, Hermione? Where's your magic, Hermione? Where's your fucking golden boys to save you, Hermione?"

Her courage was failing again. He was right. Her wand wasn't on her, it was miles away, at the Weasley's. Ginny was keeping it for her.

The taunt about the boys rang in her ears. Her fury swelled.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING TALK ABOUT MY FRIENDS, YOU BASTARD! YOU DIDN'T FUCKING KNOW THEM, YOU DIDN'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THEM! THEY LOVED ME MORE THAN YOU EVER WILL! SO DON'T FUCKING SPEAK THEIR NAMES ON YOUR UNWORTHY TONGUE!"

"You know what? You're right, Hermione. Golden Boy and Weasley probably did love you more than I ever will. I don't know what I was thinking, marrying you. Every last moment has been a mistake. I only went along with everything because you were a good lay. Whatever was I thinking?" he taunted.

Hermione's hands balled into fists, her chest heaving with emotion. The words stung, went right to her heart. Tears sparkled in her eyes.

"How could you say such things? How can you stand here before me and tell me that everything was a damned mistake, Matt? Do you have anything left in that cold heart of yours for Charlotte?"

His cruel smile never left his face. "Have I never told you how much I hate little kids?"

"You don't love me, Daddy?" a small voice asked.

Hermione turned to see Charlotte standing near the hallway, small tears streaming down her hurt face.

Matt's cruel smile faltered. He hadn't expected Charlotte to hear that.

"Charlotte," he started.

"My daddy doesn't love me at all?" her voice grew higher, shriller.

"Charlotte," Hermione said, a warning in her tone.

"I hate you!" she screamed.

Matt's face changed. It was one thing for Hermione to stand there and scream at her, but for his own flesh and blood?

"You little," he started towards her.

With a scream, Charlotte dodged him and ran to Hermione.

Matt whirled around, his wand held tightly in his hand, his knuckles turning white.

"Run, Charlotte!" Hermione yelled, grabbing for something to hit Matt over the head with, if necessary.

Charlotte ducked under Matt's outstretched hands and ran for the door. Matt started after her, but Hermione called to him.

"You'd hurt your own child, Matt? What kind of sick excuse of a man are you?"

With a roar, he raised his wand, intent on cursing her.

Unexpectedly, he crashed to the floor when a small blur of pink and ribbons ran slam-bang into him and latched onto his knees.

Hermione darted forward to grab Charlotte.

Matt yelled in fury and grabbed hold of Charlotte's dress, flinging her across the room.

Charlotte hit the wall with a sickening thud, and crumpled to the ground, unmoving.

"You bastard!" Hermione managed to gasp out, darting forward to her daughter again.

He lunged for her, but missed.

Hermione scooped up her unconscious daughter, and with one final terrified look at her deranged husband, she Apparated out of the flat.

* * *

Hermione reappeared in the yard of the Burrow, clutching Charlotte's limp form and sobbing unrestrainedly.

She ran up to the door, knocking quickly, clutching her little girl all the more tighter, and looking wildly around to see whether or not he had followed her.

Arthur answered the door.

"Hermione, what in the world-"

"My baby!" she wailed, jumping across the threshold and slamming the door behind her.

"Mother of Merlin, what happened?" he exclaimed, noticing Charlotte's limp form.

"He. . .he threw her across the room!" she sobbed hysterically.

Arthur assessed the situation quickly. He took Charlotte from Hermione and went to the living room, carefully setting her down on the couch. Ginny and Molly appeared soon after that.

"Arthur, what's all the commotion about?"

"Hermione! What in the hell. . .Charlotte!" Ginny cried, rushing forward once she noticed the little girl lying motionless on the couch.

Molly hurried forward to wrap a loving arm around Hermione, and allowed her to sob without stopping into her shoulder.

Ginny and Arthur carefully examined Charlotte, feeling for breaks and bumps. Ginny yanked her wand out and softly tapped the back of Charlotte's skull, mending the fracture she had found. Arthur looked up grimly at Hermione, who was now staring at her feet, her head in her hands.

"Hermione," he said carefully.

She looked up, tears still sliding down her face.

"What have I done?" she whispered.

"I fixed a fracture on the back of her skull. What the hell happened?" Ginny asked.

"Matt finally came home."

Arthur and Molly exchanged a look, but otherwise said nothing.

"He's been cheating on me for awhile now. Ginny, my letter?" Hermione said.

Ginny nodded understandingly.

"I confronted him. I showed him the bra I found under the bed. He tried to deny everything."

"But how on earth-?" Molly asked.

"I finally blew up at him. I put up with his abuse for too long. Finding that other woman's lingerie under _our_ bed was the last straw. I can put up with a lot, but for him to be unfaithful was just one step too far."

Ginny looked at her friend, confused. She could put up with him beating the hell out of her, but for him to sleep around on her was worse than the beatings? It didn't make sense.

"Go on," Ginny said.

"I asked him why he had to lie to me. Why he couldn't have just gotten himself some help when I asked him to so long ago."

"He didn't like that very much," Ginny observed.

"He was irate. He blamed every little thing on me. It was my fault that he was always so angry with me. It was my fault that I was hit so much. It was my fault, always my fault. Never his. That made me even angrier. So I yelled at him so more. I asked him if he regretted everything we'd ever done. I asked him whether or not he still loved me. And Charlotte. . ." she trailed off, the tears falling faster now.

"What, Hermione? What about Charlotte?" Molly urged, rubbing her back gently.

"He said he regretted every last thing he'd ever done with me. And when I asked him about Charlotte, he just smiled so sickly and said that he hated little kids!" she gasped out, dissolving into fresh sobs.

"But Charlotte?" Arthur asked weakly, watching in his mind's eye as the events unfolded as Hermione told them.

"Charlie heard! She screamed at him that she hated him! He started after her, but I distracted him! And then he was going to curse me, but Charlotte ran into him, knocked him to the floor! And then. . .then he grabbed hold of her dress and flung her across the room like she was nothing!"

Much to everyone's surprise, Ginny jumped up from the couch suddenly and started to storm from the room.

"Ginny?" Molly asked, giving her a questioning look.

"I'm going to go kill that bastard myself," she said angrily, her cheeks red with rage.

"Ginny," Arthur said sternly.

"He just threw a child across a room and fractured her skull! What the hell am I supposed to do, Dad? Sit back and let him get away with it?"

"Let me get in touch with my contacts at the Ministry," Arthur started, but Hermione interrupted.

"N-n-no! No Ministry!" she hiccuped. "He has so many more people under his belt than you know! He'll get out of it, like always!"

Ginny left the room.

"Ginny!" Molly called after her.

"I'm writing a letter! Relax!" she called back.

Hermione got up from her spot next to Molly and went to sit next to her little girl, as still as ever.

"My baby," she murmured, stroking her hair back away from her pale forehead. "What have I done to you?"

"Hermione, you can't blame yourself for this," Arthur said.

"Yes, I can. If I hadn't been so ridiculously stubborn, I would have done this years ago and left him. Because I didn't, I allowed that monster to hurt my little girl," Hermione said without emotion.

"You couldn't have known that he would hurt Charlotte," Molly tried to reason.

"If he could bring himself to beat up on me, he was more than capable of doing harm to anyone," Hermione said.

Molly stood up and walked over, laying a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Let me take her upstairs and put her in bed. She'll be more comfortable."

Hermione nodded wordlessly and shifted out of the way so Molly could lift Charlotte into her arms and take her up to bed.

Ginny returned to the room shortly after they left. Arthur excused himself and left the two girls alone.

"I'm a failure, Gin," Hermione said miserably, allowing her head to sink sideways to rest on Ginny's shoulder.

"No, you're not," Ginny said firmly.

"I let my little girl get hurt at the hands of her father."

"He can't even call himself a father if he can hurt his little girl."

"What am I going to do? I can't get the Ministry involved, he'll worm his way out of everything!"

Ginny turned to face her head on. "I think you know what you need to do."

Hermione saw what she needed to do, but she didn't want to do it. "Gin, I can't, I don't know if I can still do it after all these-"

"Hermione Granger, you were the brightest witch of your year at school. You can, and you will."

Hermione gulped.

"Ginny," she tried to protest.

"No. It's time. Do you think Harry and Ron would want you to be like this? Refusing your place because of their deaths?"

Hermione slowly shook her head.

"Exactly. You can, and you will. Are you going to stand back and let it happen again? Are you going to let him get away with it?"

Hermione's eyes widened with horror. "No!"

"Then you know what you have to do. You need to start to fight back."

Hermione looked up in shock when Oliver walked into the room, closely followed by a girl she didn't know.

"Hermione, I just heard from Ginny! Where is she?" Oliver asked, coming to sit right next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Upstairs, resting."

"What the bloody hell happened?" he asked.

She closed her eyes briefly, unable to tell the story again. She was suddenly more exhausted than she had ever been in her life.

"I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed," she said wearily, shrugging Oliver's arm away and standing up. "Ginny, will you tell the story?"

Ginny nodded and watched as Hermione walked out of the room, her shoulders more slumped in defeat than ever.

Rhianna sat down on the other side of Oliver. "Has she realized it yet?"

Ginny nodded. "I think she has."

"Who would have thought he would do that to his own daughter?" Oliver asked.

Rhianna smiled bitterly in spite of the situation. "It doesna matter why he did it. She's realized what she needs to do to help herself out. And with that knowledge, she can gain her independence once more."

Oliver smiled as well. His heart lifted. Now that Hermione had realized what she needed to do, she could get herself and Charlotte the help that they both so desperately needed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, a few characters, but sadly, everything else is Jo's.

**A.N. **Again, I apologize for the delay. I've had something like four papers to write in the past week, besides frenzied studying for ridiculous tests at school. So be nice and review, won't you?

**Help**

**Chapter Seven**

Hermione awoke abruptly, breathing heavily. Nightmares had plagued her all night long.

'Just a dream. Relax. He can't get me or Charlotte anymore,' she told herself, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

She sat up and looked over at her daughter's still form. Again, Hermione silently berated herself for not getting out before the violence got to Charlotte.

She got up and went over to sit on the edge of Charlotte's bed. She reached out a hand and brushed the hair away from Charlotte's forehead.

"I'm sorry, baby," she whispered.

The child's eyes fluttered open. "Hi, Mummy."

Hermione gasped. "When did you wake up?"

"In the middle of the night."

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I knew you were close. I was confused at first, but I was okay. I could feel you were near me, Mummy."

"How's your head feel?"

Charlotte moved it around on the pillow. "Kind of sore."

"Do you remember what happened?"

"Yes. Where is he now, Mummy?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "Not here. That's all that matters for right now. Are you hungry?"

Charlotte nodded her head, then winced.

"And something for the pain as well. Okay. Do you feel up to eating downstairs in the kitchen with the rest of the Weasleys?"

"Yes, Mummy."

Hermione threw a robe on over the nightgown Ginny had lent her and scooped her little girl up in her arms.

"Rest your head against my shoulder, Charlie, if it hurts," she said.

Charlotte's soft brown curls nestled up next to Hermione's neck. "I love you, Mummy."

"I love you too, baby. I always will."

The kitchen was quite full for having only three Weasleys living at home. The twins had shown up, and Oliver and the strange girl that Hermione didn't know were also present.

"Good morning," Hermione greeted as she walked in.

Everyone looked up and the conversation instantly switched to anxious inquiries about Charlotte.

"How's your head, sweetie?" Molly asked her.

"Kind of sore."

"I can fix that," Ginny said brightly, drawing her wand and standing up to reach Charlotte. "This won't hurt, I promise."

She tapped Charlotte's head lightly and muttered a charm. "How's that?"

Charlotte smiled brightly. "Much better! Thanks, Aunt Ginny!"

"Not a problem," she said as she sat back down next to the twins.

Hermione sat down in the only vacant seat, conveniently located next to Oliver. She settled Charlotte in her lap and began reaching for plates of food.

Once Charlotte was happily indulged in her food, Hermione grabbed a cup of coffee for herself and a bagel. She knew she was looking a little worse for wear, and felt extremely awkward sitting next to Oliver.

Oliver watched how Hermione carefully avoided his gaze from the time she entered the room to now, as she sat eating a bagel and staring at the back of Charlotte's head. He couldn't help himself when he allowed himself to think that she looked beautiful even in a robe and some nightclothes, her hair tousled and her eyes looking weary and wiped out.

"How are yeh holdin' up, then?" he asked her quietly as she sipped her coffee.

She turned her head slightly to look at him. "Quite lousy, actually."

"Yeh mustna blame yerself, lass," he told her. "It wasna yer fault."

"That's what everyone keeps saying. If it wasn't my fault, wouldn't I have left him a long time ago?"

"Yeh had no idea it would get this bad."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it. I've made up my mind. I'm not going back."

The table went quiet. She had said this last part a little louder than she intended to, and everyone had heard.

"I do believe that's the most sensible decision you've made in a long time, Herms," George said lightly, using the nickname he knew she didn't like.

Hermione flinched at the sound of the nickname, one that the boys used to call her all the time. "I'm not going to subject Charlotte to this any longer. Last night was the last straw."

Ginny reached across the table and squeezed Hermione's hand. "Good for you."

Hermione looked away from everyone's smiling faces, unable to bear the weight of her responsibility in all this. Her eyes landed on the strange girl, who was watching her closely.

Oliver followed her gaze across the table. Rhianna was watching her shamelessly, studying her as if trying to figure out just what was wrong with her.

"Ah, sorry. Hermione, I didna introduce yeh to me little sister. That's Rhianna."

Rhianna smiled finally. "It's nice to meet yeh, Hermione. Yer liddle lass there looks just like yeh."

Hermione smiled tentatively. "Thank you. You went to Hogwarts, right?"

"Yeah, tha' was me. Ravenclaw. I was a few years behind yeh and the boys."

"She's been workin' with Charlie Weasley in Romania with those fire breathin' beasts," Oliver supplied.

Hermione's smile widened a little. "You share a love for those horrible creatures too, huh?"

Rhianna's eyes widened. "They're not terrible! Yeh just don't understand them, that's all!"

Oliver leaned over to whisper conspiratorially in Hermione's ear. "She just loves fire."

Hermione giggled as a shiver trembled down her spine at Oliver's hot breath on her ear and neck. She prayed that he didn't notice.

Ginny saw it, though, and smirked slightly at Hermione's reaction. She saw the chemistry between them the moment they were in the same room together. All Hermione had to do was admit that she saw it too.

'A work in progress. One day at a time,' she mused to herself.

Rhianna saw this as well, and instantly knew the other part of her mission. Not only would she help Hermione get away from her evil husband, she would make sure her brother no longer had to live with the one night stands that he'd been putting up with for the past few years.

"I have an idea, Hermione. How about you, me, and Rhianna go do some shopping today?" Ginny asked, with a quick glance at Rhianna, who winked.

Hermione peered down at her daughter. "Is that okay, baby? Will you be okay for a few hours while I do some shopping?"

"Uh huh."

"I was thinking we could make some cookies, Charlotte," Molly spoke up, watching the little girl's face light up at the suggestion.

"Okay!"

"I think you'll be more than okay for a few hours, girls," Molly said.

"Then let's go get ready!" Ginny exclaimed, grabbing Rhianna's hand and yanking her out of the room.

Hermione sighed and shook her head before transferring Charlotte to Molly's lap.

Oliver gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder as she got up and left the room.

The twins didn't fail to notice this, and each cracked identical, conspiring grins, which Oliver saw and returned with an indignant glare.

Up in Ginny's room, clothes were being tossed out of the closet like multicolored snowflakes.

"Erm, Gin, just what the hell are you doing?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"Looking for something for you to wear," came the muffled response as a few more things came whipping out at her.

Rhianna grinned at her. "Looks like she's got big plans for yeh, Hermione."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh I'll give her big plans. Ginny, I am not wearing that!"

Ginny was holding up a black skirt that was a little more than just too short and a tight fitting purple shirt that looked like it would show more than necessary cleavage.

It was Ginny's turn to roll her eyes and sigh. "Why not?"

Hermione looked at her like she was deranged. "Has it not occurred to you that I have had a child? Not to mention that you're about a billion sizes smaller than I am and my hips have widened to a point that's almost obscene?"

Ginny threw them at her. "Too bad. Put them on. They'll fit."

Hermione turned to Rhianna. "You see what she puts me through?"

Rhianna grinned. "All out of love, I'm sure."

Hermione grumbled the entire time she was undressing, and huffing bitterly once she threw on what Ginny had given her.

"There. See? They're on. Are you happy now?" Hermione huffed.

Ginny turned around from the closet. "Herms, you're such a babe. I don't know why you were complaining."

Hermione looked taken aback. "What are you talking about? I look like a complete cow!"

Rhianna spun her around to look in the mirror. "I think yer wrong this time, Hermione."

Hermione looked at the mirror suspiciously. "What kind of charm have you got on this, Ginny? Because I definitely don't think I look this good."

Ginny laughed. "I told you that the clothes would fit. Why don't you try listening to me sometimes?"

She got an indistinct reply, but it did sound oddly like a "go to hell" kind of phrase.

Of course, Hermione was also subjected to the horrors of make up and hair, and finally, once the other two were satisfied with how she looked, they were ready to leave.

Downstairs, Molly already had Charlotte busy with the cookies. She looked so happy to be doing some baking with a little child again, and sure enough, they caught a snatch of something along the lines of ". . .so nice to have a little one in the house again." Oddly enough, there was a pointed look cast in Ginny's direction as Molly said this.

Ginny rolled her eyes.

Oliver was sitting at the table with the twins. It appeared they were having an argument of some kind, which was hastily cut off once the girls appeared. Oliver's eyes about bugged out of his head when he saw Hermione, so to cover it up, he quickly buried himself in the latest edition of the _Daily Prophet_. The twins were shaking with suppressed laughter as the three girls walked out into the bright sunlight.

"Diagon Alley, then?" Rhianna asked.

"Off we go!" Ginny said cheerfully.

They all Apparated.

* * *

By the time Hermione had actually worked herself into a happy mood, it all came crashing down around her ears. Of course, in hindsight, she probably should have expected something like this, but she had a rather annoying habit of believing that good would come from any situation.

They had reappeared in Diagon Alley and immediately set off for Gringotts to extract some money from their vaults. The three girls chattered on about nothing in general, the latest trends in clothes, and the famous witches and wizards who had been in the news recently. They were all carefully avoiding the one subject that was most prevalent on their minds. One could say that they were acting like typical teenagers, although all three were now in their twenties.

They reached Gringotts, and were bowed inside by a clever looking goblin. They approached the front counter and were waited on by yet another goblin.

Rhianna extracted a rather large sum from her account, and Ginny took a little less. Then Hermione stepped up to the counter.

"I'd like to extract some money from my vault," she requested, giving the goblin her vault number.

He looked at her strangely.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked.

"Madam, you can't extract any money from that vault."

"Why not?" she asked, slightly indignant.

"That vault has been emptied, and your account has been frozen."

Minutes later, the other two girls had to sprint back outside into the bright sunlight to catch up with an absolutely furious Hermione. She was so angry, she could hardly speak. Her hands were shaking as she strode away from the bank.

"Hermione, lass, calm down!" Rhianna exclaimed.

"I will not calm down!" she nearly shrieked. "Taking away my money! The money I earned myself from working at St. Mungo's! And he takes it away!"

People looked around in alarm as they passed.

"Hermione, it's okay, we'll cover for-"

"You will not cover for me! I will not spend a Galleon of your money! He thinks he can take away everything to get me to come back to him! Well, HE THOUGHT WRONG!"

In spite of Hermione's rage, Rhianna and Ginny fell back behind her to exchange gleeful looks. This was exactly the kind of attitude they were hoping for when she thought of Matt. This would help her out in the long run.

Unbeknownst to the three women, a pair of eyes followed them as they walked down the main street.

* * *

Their fun afternoon out had been ruined, and Hermione refused to accept any money from either Rhianna or Ginny. So they were forced to return to the Burrow empty handed, as Ginny and Rhianna refused to buy anything if Hermione couldn't.

Molly looked up in alarm as Hermione banged her way back into the kitchen closely followed by the other two.

"Hermione, what's wrong? Why are you back so soon?"

"Because my _wonderful_ husband has decided to empty out my vault and freeze my account! I no longer have any money of my own!"

Charlotte looked up at her mother from her spot at the kitchen table, where she was eating her freshly baked cookies and drinking a glass of milk.

"Mummy, are we poor?"

Hermione whirled around. "No, sweetie, we're not poor. You're father's just being. . ." she trailed off.

"A meanie head," Charlotte finished wisely.

In spite of her anger, Hermione had to laugh at the look on Charlotte's face when she said that.

"You're silly, you know that?"

Charlotte shrugged.

"Hey, Mum, can you keep the little one occupied for a little longer? We have some other business to take care of," Ginny said, giving her mother a knowing look.

Molly picked up on it right away. "Of course, she can help me make dinner."

"Excellent. Come on Hermione, we're going upstairs."

Hermione looked bewildered as she was dragged up the stairs and shunted into Ginny's room. She looked even more bewildered when Rhianna came in and closed the door, locking it as well.

"Guys, what-"

"It's time." Ginny said, throwing herself under her bed and digging frantically for something.

"What? What are you. . .oh. Oh no, Ginny, please, no," Hermione begged, realizing what Ginny was on about.

"Yeh need to do this, Hermione. Not just for yerself, but for the wee one as well," Rhianna said firmly.

"But I can't-"

"Yes you can," Ginny said as fiercely as she could from under her bed as she pried up the loose floorboard under there and pulled out a carefully wrapped box.

"But Gin, he's an Auror! He knows more than-"

"Are you telling me you're going to let that bastard hold his magic over you? Hermione, you knew more than any of the seventh years when you graduated Hogwarts!"

Hermione sat down on the bed weakly, shaking her head.

Ginny unwrapped the box and pulled the lid off. She reached inside carefully and extracted Hermione's wand.

She turned to Hermione, holding it out to her on two hands.

"Ginny," she tried again, but without much conviction.

"Hermione," both girls said with stern looks at her.

She gulped. "Guys, please."

"Nope. You need to move on, Hermione. I miss them just as much as you do, but you didn't see me give up my magic." Ginny said.

Hermione focused her gaze on the wand lying in Ginny's hands. It looked innocent enough, just a piece of wood, really. But the damage it had caused, the things it had done.

The emotions it was making her feel all over again.

Hermione's heart felt like it was seizing up. She was gasping for air, as though her lungs had suddenly decided not to work properly.

"Hermione, just do it!" Rhianna exclaimed, watching her hyperventilate.

Hermione reached out a trembling hand. It hesitated for a fraction of a second over the wand, but with the last ounce of determination she had, Hermione grabbed it out of Ginny's grasp.

The magic flowed like electricity up her arm and through the rest of her body, making her feel warm and tingly, something she hadn't felt in a long, long time. The hollow in her stomach, which she had chosen to believe had finally healed from the loss of the boys, suddenly felt a little less empty.

Her breathing returned to normal, and her heart finally started working properly again.

"I thought we were only supposed to glow when we were pregnant," Ginny mused aloud, watching Hermione's reaction.

Rhianna giggled. "She hasna lost it after all."

Hermione looked up at them in puzzlement.

"Look for yourself," Ginny said, holding up a mirror.

Hermione looked. She thought it was her imagination, but she did seem to have a faint glow emanating from her skin. Her eyes no longer looked dead and empty, but rather had a little sparkle to them.

"Guys?" she asked nervously.

"Welcome back, Hermione," they both said happily.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, a few characters, but sadly, everything else is Jo's.

**A.N. **Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know, it's long overdue. I'm sorry, but you really should blame the idiots that they call teachers at my school. Thankfully, I had a long weekend to take advantage of writing. So here it is, and if you love me, you'd leave me a review, and if I'm feeling particularly grateful, I'll even give you a cookie. And thanks to my beta, Moondagger666.

**Help**

**Chapter Eight**

Everyone noticed a definite change in Hermione over the next few days. She was no longer sullen and miserable, and because of this, Charlotte was noticeably happier as well. With the return of Hermione's acceptance of magic came happier times.

Rhianna became a permanent fixture at the Burrow. Now that Hermione had chosen to accept magic back into her life, Rhianna decided that she would make "good use" of it, and teach Hermione how to properly defend herself.

This did, of course, involve some certain sacrifice on Ginny's part.

"Ow! Goddamn it! Rhianna, what the hell are you teaching her?!"

Rhianna smirked slightly from her corner of Ginny's room, where the three women had been practicing frequently over the past few days.

"You want her to be able to defend herself against the bastard, right?"

Ginny nodded, wincing as she got up from the floor, where she had missed the cushions laid out by about three feet.

"Then I wouldna be doin' any complainin'," Rhianna retorted.

"Well, then, let me see your ass get cursed a few times and then get back to me on how great it feels," Ginny grumbled.

"I think we've had enough of this one for the moment anyway," Rhianna said hastily. "But yer doin' loads better, Hermione!"

Hermione grinned happily and laughed. "I feel better about myself now. I don't feel so afraid about him anymore."

Ginny and Rhianna exchanged gleeful looks.

"But will you be able to keep a cool head in a situation that would require you to use what you've learned so far?" Ginny asked sensibly.

Hermione thought for a moment. "I surely hope so. I don't want to have learned all this for it all to fail me in the end because of cowardice."

"Well, look at it this way. If yeh become frightened, think of the wee one. Imagine how you would feel again if yeh failed her in some way," Rhianna said.

"Rhianna!" Ginny exclaimed.

Hermione smiled in spite of what was said. "Yes, I suppose that's one way to look at it. I definitely do not want Matt to hurt her again like that. It was bad enough going through it once, I don't think I could handle it again if I tried."

The three woman trouped downstairs to grab some food for lunch.

"So what are yeh goin' to do about the money situation, if yeh don't mind me askin'?" Rhianna questioned.

Ginny grinned, as she knew what was going on.

"Fred and George have offered me a spot helping them out in the shop. I figured it was the best I could get, especially if I want to stay out of harm's way, what with them being there constantly."

Rhianna rolled her eyes. "Oh Lord, workin' in a joke shop, with the twins. Yeh had best watch yerself there, Hermione. There's no tellin' what could go wrong."

Hermione smiled widely. "I've decided it's time to lighten up about things in life. I can remember how I was so apprehensive about their business, but now, it's like, what the hell? Why not have a little fun in life before you die?"

"Hear, hear!" the other two chorused.

Charlotte was in the kitchen with Molly making sandwiches, as the three walked in.

"Mummy! I hope you're hungry!" she exclaimed as they walked in.

"Starving, baby. Did you make me something?"

"Ham and cheese! Your favorite!" she squealed.

"What was that I heard about having fun before you die?" Molly inquired.

Hermione grabbed a sandwich and some pumpkin juice and sat down. "I was just telling Rhianna about the job the twins were giving me at the shop, so I can start up a different account and have some money again. I figured it was time for me to lighten up a little bit and live, you know, have some fun before I die."

Molly nodded approvingly. "I'm so glad that you're finally starting to make your own way again, Hermione."

"So am I," she said through a mouthful of sandwich.

* * *

The next day, Hermione started her job at the joke shop. The twins were very happy to have her there with them, just so they could keep an extra eye on things. Hermione was happy to have a job again, although she did feel a little twinge of guilt for leaving Charlotte after everything that had happened. But Molly had assured her that Charlotte would be just fine with her at the Burrow, and would keep her occupied the whole day.

The twins started her off with the basics at first; stocking shelves and ringing up customers once they had finished shopping. For the first time in a long time, Hermione felt useful, like she was doing something meaningful. She hadn't felt like that since her days as a Healer at St. Mungo's, where she felt like she was giving everyone everything that she had.

Oliver was hanging around the shop more often than usual. He claimed it was because it was the off-season and he had nothing better to do, but the twins knew better than that. They saw the way his eyes softened when he looked at Hermione, or how when he talked to her, his words had such intensity and meaning behind them.

"Hey, Oliver?" George spoke up as Oliver was lifting a heavy box for Hermione onto a high shelf.

"What?" he grunted.

"Keep doing any more work for her, and we may as well just give you her paycheck," George teased.

Hermione flushed and looked slightly anxious, but George winked at her before Oliver turned around to glare at him.

"It was a heavy box. Yeh want the lass to break her neck if it falls on her?"

Fred lifted his wand. "That's what those wooden rods they gave us before Hogwarts are for, genius. Ever think of that one?"

Oliver opened his mouth to retort, but then gave a sideways glance at Hermione, who was stifling a giggle, and he closed his mouth.

"What, too good to give us a decent reply now, Ollie?" Fred asked indignantly.

"Lass is present," Oliver grunted quietly before starting around the twins and going to the back room.

Hermione burst out laughing as Oliver's retreating form disappeared through the doorframe. The twins looked at her in mock alarm as she wheezed, which caused her to laugh all the more harder at their reactions.

"Hermione, erm, not that it wasn't funny, but. . ." George trailed off, looking concerned for her sanity.

"I'm. . .sorry! It. . .just struck me. . .his face. . .I'm all right!" she managed out as she clutched her stomach.

"I heard that!" came Oliver's yelled response from the back room.

The twins exchanged glances as Hermione calmed down from her laughing fit. They decided that it was a good thing for her to be laughing hysterically like this. After all, they reasoned, it had been a very long time since they had even seen her crack a true smile.

Before Hermione knew it, a month had gone by. Her time was taken up nicely by her job at the shop with the twins, and every night after they closed, the twins and she would Apparate back to the Burrow for a nice dinner made by Molly and Charlotte. Charlotte was always so happy to see Hermione at the end of the day, and Rhianna and Oliver never missed a meal as well.

Hermione and Oliver were becoming fast friends, despite Hermione's worries about becoming too attached. Quite frankly, she mused to herself as she ate, anyone that good looking should be made illegal, and for him to be as nice as he was to her was just obscene. It had been a long time since she had really talked to a male like she had been with Oliver. It was nice that he would just sit there and listen to her talk about everything from her day at the shop to the harder things like life with Matt and how she could see the future panning out for her and Charlotte.

For the first time in a long time, Hermione was really, _truly_ happy. It surprised her to find herself waking up in the morning looking forward to the day, knowing she wouldn't have to put up with any angry outbursts or worry that some little thing would set off a terrible rage and she would wind up hurt for it.

What really made her happy though, was the fact that Charlotte had perked up remarkably since she and Hermione had left the flat. Charlotte had come to consider Molly and Arthur her surrogate grandparents, and Ginny was always there to play whatever crazy game Charlotte came up with. Charlotte no longer was afraid to be bouncy and happy, and she didn't have to worry about being too loud or too whatever for fear of Matt lashing out at her. She finally had a childhood.

Hermione alarmed herself one morning by waking up and realizing her birthday was only three days away. With all the confusion and all that had taken up her life the past month, it had completely slipped her mind. Most unfortunately, Molly and Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys didn't forget so easily.

"Hermione dear, what do you want for your birthday?" Molly asked at breakfast the same morning.

Everyone at the table stopped their conversations and looked at her.

She gulped. "Nothing. I have everything I could possibly want right now. It was more than enough for me to just get out of there and to be here with all of you, people who care about me. That's all I could really want anyways, just happiness."

Hermione went back to her breakfast, which would explain how she missed the frantic exchange of looks between Rhianna and her brother. Rhianna had perked up considerably at the news of Hermione's impending birthday, and was now having a remarkably furious, silent conversation with Oliver about what he was going to do about the situation.

What was worse for Oliver was that Ginny and the twins joined in the furious, silent exchange and were now positively hounding the poor man about what he was going to do. He couldn't put up with it much longer, so finally, he put up a hand to stem the glaring, the huffy looks, and the questionable sighs.

"Hermione, love," Oliver started, looking across the table at her.

She looked up, a forkful of egg halfway to her mouth.

"I have an idea. Why don't I take yeh to dinner for yer birthday? Just the two of us."

Hermione froze, staring at him. Take her to dinner? Just the two of them?

She glanced sideways at Rhianna and Ginny, who were, unsurprisingly, glaring daggers at her. Mind waves sent: You had better damn well do this or you will never hear the end of it.

She set down her fork and took a sip of her tea. "I think. . .it just might be fun. I'd love to, Oliver, thank you."

Oliver looked slightly taken aback at her almost instant acceptance, and could only gruffly clear his throat and take a drink of scorching coffee, which he promptly spit back out, as he had nicely seared his tongue.

Hermione giggled and blushed, ducking her head and grabbing at the _Daily Prophet_ to hide her reaction.

The twins and Rhianna and Ginny all exchanged the same incredulous look. Hermione, giggling and blushing like a school girl?

Things were definitely improving.

* * *

The twins gave Hermione her birthday off, and Ginny and Rhianna took advantage of it by taking her shopping for something nice to wear that night when Oliver took her to dinner.

"I have to say, you two, it's very nice to have my own money to spend again and to be able to go shopping," Hermione said as the two literally dragged her to every shop in Diagon Alley.

"Who said you were paying?" Ginny asked. "Consider it a gift from both me and Rhianna."

Hermione started to protest, but Rhianna yanked out her wand. "Don't make me put a Silencing Charm on yeh, Hermione, I'd feel bad with it being yer birthday and all."

Hermione eyed the wand nervously and gave up. "Thank you," she said meekly.

After a few hours work, they finally found something that Hermione adored. She had found a lovely, deep purple dress that fell gracefully to the tops of her knees, and was embroidered beautifully with darker purple threading. She had found a matching sheer shawl to go with it, and even picked up some new jewelry for it as well.

"I feel pretty, oh so pretty," she joked as she added the finishing touches to her outfit later that night.

Ginny and Rhianna smiled as Hermione twirled around the room gracefully and put on her heels.

"Yeh look amazin', lass, and there's nothin' more to it," Rhianna said.

"Oliver will die," Ginny clarified.

Hermione stopped twirling. "Oh dear, that would be bad. I don't want my date to die on me!"

The three dissolved into giggles.

"Well, let's go downstairs and see my dear older brother's reaction to the lass!" Rhianna exclaimed, opening the door and shooing Hermione out in front of her.

Oliver was pacing the floor of the living room anxiously. He didn't know why he was so nervous, but his hands were sweating like mad, and his mind was strangely blank. He had put on a nice pair of black dress pants and a deep blue dress shirt, opened slightly at the collar, no tie, because he found them ridiculously complicated and restricting.

Ginny and Rhianna appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

"You all ready to go, Ollie?" Ginny teased as he stopped to stare at them.

"Is the lass ready, then?"

Charlotte looked up from the book she and Molly were reading, watching eagerly.

Hermione came down the stairs gracefully, watching Oliver's face as she came into view. She felt slightly embarrassed as she watched his face go slack, watching his throat move as he swallowed quickly, and his jaw hang slightly open.

"Hello, Oliver," she said softly as she stopped in front of him.

"Hermione," he said huskily, bowing slightly to her. "Yeh look amazin'."

She dipped her head slightly and peered up at him through her eyelashes. "Thank you."

"Mummy looks so pretty!" Charlotte gushed as she watched the exchange between the two.

Molly smiled approvingly as she watched the two smile at each other. It was almost like they were back in Hogwarts, and they were going to a ball or something of the nature, the way they were acting.

"Are yeh ready to go, then?" Oliver asked, picking up her hand.

"I am."

"Let's go, then. Good night, everyone."

"Bye Mummy!"

Hermione laughed as she swooped down on her daughter and gave her a peck on the forehead. "Don't stay up and wait for me, baby. Go to bed when you're tired."

Charlotte made a face but waved good bye nonetheless.

Oliver led her by the hand out the door and stopped a few feet away from the door. "We'll be Apparatin' then."

Hermione moved closer to him and he held her tightly to him, his arms around her waist protectively.

With a slight pop, they vanished.

He took her to an amazing Italian restaurant. Where they were, she had no idea, but once she saw the place, she really stopped caring about anything else at all. Oliver kept an arm around her waist as they waited for the host to find a table, and held her close as they walked to it. He pulled out her chair for her, and helped her scoot closer to the table. He was an absolute gentleman.

Hermione, for once, was not worrying about Matt or anything else. She refused to give anything a second thought, and acted impulsively. She felt as though she were back in Hogwarts again, enjoying a lovely night out with a handsome boy.

Which she was. She and Oliver talked and laughed and ate, and generally had a great time. Hermione barely noticed what she was eating. She didn't care. All that mattered was that she was having fun for once in her life and that she was with someone who truly cared about her.

Oliver kept her grinning the entire night. Hermione was amazed at his sense of humor, and how it never failed to amuse her. He really was a clever minded person, it was just undermined by the fact that he was presented to the world as a total Quidditch jock, and that's all that people chose to see.

Even as they strolled from the restaurant, he had her giggling at some clever joke. That would explain why she didn't feel the eyes in the shadows nearby, watching her.

* * *

For a whole week after her birthday, Hermione could be found in a general state of nostalgia. Every time someone would look at her, it was clear that her mind wasn't anywhere nearby. She was strangely unfocused and carefree, and prone to random moments of grinning for no reason at all.

"I'd say someone's in love," Ginny muttered to Rhianna at dinner one night.

"Have yeh not looked at the loon further down the table?" Rhianna muttered back, nodding down the table to her brother.

Oliver was behaving similarly. The twins were making fun of him behind his back, not like he was going to notice anyways.

"Hey, Hermione!" Fred called down the table, startling the lovesick sap out of her trance.

"Yes?"

"You anywhere close? Or do you care to tell us why your head's been around Pluto the past week?"

Everyone snickered into their food.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Fred. "I'm fine. Honestly, what is with everyone?"

She caught Oliver's eye as she turned back to her food, and felt a blush creep up her face. Damn it, damn it, damn it! Of all times to blush, why now?!

Everyone saw the blush grace her face, and grinned knowingly as they went back to their meals and conversations.

Charlotte was watching her mother and Oliver and the way they were acting toward each other the whole week. She was happy for her mummy, finding a nice guy like Oliver. Oliver seemed like a really neat guy, and he really seemed to like her mummy, and, even better, he liked her and liked to fly with her and the twins.

Charlotte could only hope that maybe one day he would be in their lives forever.

There was a knock at the front door that only Ginny seemed to hear. Everyone looked at her questioningly as she got up to answer it.

"Someone's at the door, did you not hear the knock?" she said as she walked out of the room.

Nobody thought much of it, that is, until a few minutes went by, and Ginny still had not returned to the kitchen.

"Where the hell did she get off to?" George muttered as he stood up to find her.

"George! Language!" Molly scolded with a pointed look at Charlotte as he walked out of the room.

"Not like she's never heard it before, Mum," he said, and then there was silence.

They only had time to register his next cry before everything went chaotic.

"Bugger!"

Fred, Arthur and Rhianna immediately jumped to their feet and got halfway across to the doorway when Matt appeared, his wand out and pointed directly at them.

Oliver's hand moved so fast to his wand that it was a mere blur, and he jumped from his chair.

"What the hell do yeh want here, Matt?" he thundered.

Matt glared scornfully at Oliver's drawn wand. "Oh please, you really think you can take me? A top qualified Ministry Auror?"

Rhianna stepped up next to her brother. "He wouldna be alone, you bastard."

Matt barely glanced at her. "How touching. My wife's _lover_ standing up for her. And his sister as well? Touching, very _touching_."

Hermione stood up and placed herself in front of Charlotte, who was staring wide-eyed and openmouthed at the scene before her.

"What do you want, Matt? And what have you done to Ginny and George?"

He glared at her. "You even dare to speak to me after you've been gallivanting around with this worthless piece of a Quidditch idiot?"

Hermione's hands clenched. "You've been spying on me again?!"

"I like to keep tabs on my _spouse,_" he spat furiously. "Are you forgetting you're still married to me, and me only?"

Hermione's hand drifted to her pocket, where her wand was stashed. Rhianna gave her a warning look out of the corner of her eye. However angry she was right now, Matt was ten times angrier, and she would be no match against him right this second.

"Whatever the hell you think there still is, Matt, it's been gone for awhile. I'm not your _anything_ anymore. So you can clear off. I'm filing for divorce tomorrow."

Matt laughed derisively. "You think the papers will go through? Are you forgetting who you're dealing with, sweetheart?"

Hermione drew her wand with a snap. "I'm quite aware of that, thank you, you bastard. You were saying?"

He glanced down at her wand with a faint trace of surprise. "I see we've decided to go back to our magic. What changed your mind? The fact that I could beat the shit out of you even without a wand?"

Oliver growled in rage. "Yeh willna speak to a woman like that!"

Matt glared at him. "And who do you think you are to tell me how to treat my wife?"

Oliver stepped closer to him, his face purpling. "How can yeh call her yer wife when all yeh do is beat her and the wee one?"

"Stay out of this, you puffed up Quidditch idiot. You've taken one too many Bludgers to the head to think rationally."

Oliver made a big mistake. He fired a hex at Matt, which caught him across the cheek.

Matt moved so fast, Hermione barely caught what happened. All she knew was that one moment things were deadly quiet, and then the kitchen exploded in a rash of noise and light.

Charlotte screamed and Hermione threw herself backward to protect her daughter from the curses being fired in every direction.

"Hermione! Get out of here!" she heard Rhianna cry as she threw herself into the fray.

Hermione shoved her wand away and picked up Charlotte, who was still screaming for Oliver, and felt a hand clamp down on her shoulder. She blinked through the dust to see Molly dragging her backwards out of the kitchen and into the night.

"Go! Get out of here!"

Hermione clutched Charlotte to her tightly and Apparated to the first place that came to her mind.

Oliver's cottage.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, a few characters, but sadly, everything else is Jo's.

**A.N.** Okay, so it probably won't do me any good to apologize for not updating in over a month. But I'll say it anyways: I'm sorry. School has been insanely ridiculous, I have been busy, and I had a minor writer's block. So I'm sorry a thousand times over, and here is your update. Oh, and I'd appreciate a review. I had over 300 hits on the last chapter, but only 7 reviews. So get with it, dang it!

**Help**

**Chapter Nine**

Hermione reappeared with a slight _pop_, clutching Charlotte to her closely. She looked around wildly, she had no idea where she was, but there was Oliver's cottage in front of her, and that's all that mattered at the moment.

She ran around the side of the cottage to the door, looking around every few seconds to be sure she was alone. Charlotte was crying quietly into her neck.

She tried the door. It was open, miraculously. She all but threw herself through the door and closed it quickly behind her, locking it for good measure.

She leaned up against the door, closing her eyes to try and steady her nerves and taking deep breaths to calm herself. She had come very, very close to cursing Matt back there. If she had, what would he have done to her? Would he have succeeded, with Oliver and the others standing there?

Oliver and the others. She groaned, the fight still fresh in her mind. She hoped the others were all right. Matt was a top Ministry Auror, there was no telling what he could do to them.

Hermione gently pried Charlotte from her neck and set her down, kneeling down to face her daughter.

"Are you all right, baby?"

Charlotte nodded tearfully, sniffing and hiccuping.

"Hush now, no more tears," she said, wiping her daughter's tears away with her thumb.

"Daddy attacked Oliver!" she cried, more tears leaking out.

"Oliver will be all right. The others will help him. Daddy won't hurt him."

"Daddy's a bad man! He'll hurt Oliver!"

Hermione smiled in spite of the situation. Charlotte was finally realizing just how bad things were with Matt. This was a good thing. She would have an easier time getting away from him now.

"I don't think Oliver will let Daddy hurt him. Oliver was pretty angry."

"Oliver will be okay," Charlotte repeated to herself.

Hermione planted a kiss on Charlotte's forehead and stood up. She looked around, impressed with just how clean the cottage was.

'For a bachelor, he knows how to keep a house,' she thought to herself.

It appeared that they were in the living room. Hermione didn't want to snoop around, although the urge was strong, so she led Charlotte over to the long couch by the window and sat down. Charlotte curled up with her head in Hermione's lap, and Hermione absently stroked her hair while they sat there, waiting for one of the others to show up.

Hermione tried not to think of the awful possible outcomes to the situation back at the Burrow with the others. She knew that the others would try to stop Matt at all costs, no matter what the consequences. She only hoped that Matt wouldn't do something seriously rash, and end up putting one of them in St. Mungo's, or worse. She couldn't bear the idea of losing another one of her family members.

Charlotte fell asleep while they sat there. Hermione shifted her off her lap and pulled the blanket from the back of the couch down on top of her. She stirred in her sleep, but did not wake.

Hermione got up and started pacing around the room. She couldn't bear sitting still any longer. The urge to Apparate back to the Burrow was overwhelming, but the stupidity of the thought kept her feet planted firmly on the ground.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, Hermione heard noises coming from the kitchen. She raced in there to find Oliver and Rhianna coming through the back door, both of them looking a little worse for wear.

Rhianna was holding a towel to her arm, which was bleeding profusely. She had various cuts and bruises on her face and what exposed skin Hermione could see, and dirt smudges on her face. Her hair was bedraggled, but she looked quite pleased with herself.

Oliver was sporting a bloody nose and a black eye. He too had several cuts and bruises gracing his handsome face, and when he moved, he winced as though in pain. He looked up when Hermione came racing into the room, stopping short when she saw them, her eyes wide with horror.

"You're hurt!" she gasped, her hand going to her mouth.

"Aye, but it was not without a fight," he said grimly, wincing as he moved toward the sink.

"Sit down! You're hurt! Let me clean you both up!"

Oliver opened his mouth to protest, but Rhianna laid a hang on his arm, and he closed his mouth before allowing himself to fall heavily into the nearest chair.

Rhianna sat down as well, and stretched her left leg out. She was pretty sure she heard something pop in her knee when she went down from one of the hexes the bastard fired at her. Sure enough, her knee was not willing to cooperate and would barely move. She yanked out her wand again and muttered a charm. Her knee grew warm and tingled, and then she was able to move it again.

"Tell me what happened," Hermione said as she started conjuring medical supplies out of the air, looking at Oliver's various injuries.

"He won't be able to find yeh here, that's for sure," Oliver said wearily, wincing as she began to dab some liquid on his face.

"Are Ginny and George all right?" she asked, concentrating on a cut above his eyebrow.

"They'll be all right. Molly was fixin' them up when we left." Rhianna replied, grabbing some of the medical supplies and cleaning up her scrapes.

"What happened, then?"

"He tried to take us all on. Wouldna leave for all the hell we was givin' him. He kept demandin' to know where yeh and the lass went. We wouldna tell him anything. He was bein' a right bastard about it all. He should've realized that he was no match for, what, six of us?" Rhianna explained.

"So where did he go? What made him leave?"

"I think he realized that he wasna gonna get anywhere with us. He wore himself out, tryin' to kill us all," Oliver said softly, his hand twitching in his attempt to keep from pulling Hermione's hand away from his stinging face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, realizing he was hurting from her efforts to help him.

"It's all right. I've been hurt worse before, lass."

"Tell me that he at least got hurt as well."

Rhianna grinned. "He got what he was deservin' from me. I got my hits in while I could. Let me just say he won't be too comfortable for a few days."

Hermione smiled as she began to close up Oliver's cuts with her wand. "I can only hope this doesn't lead to trouble for you all. I wouldn't want you to end up in Azkaban or worse for defending me. I'd feel terrible."

Oliver looked up at her face. She was so serious, concentrating on healing him properly, making sure he wasn't in any pain. Her eyes were tight with worry, her mouth set in a thin line. She looked exhausted, but she wouldn't rest until she had fixed up both him and Rhianna.

"Lass, don't concentrate so hard. You'll give yerself a headache," he said softly, reaching out a hand to softly touch her arm.

She jumped as though he had shocked her. "I'm fine. I just want to get these cuts healed. I can't stand to see people in pain."

He saw something ghost through her eyes as she spoke, and saw the pain tighten in her face. He knew as well as anyone that she was the one who watched Harry die, and the memories of the Last Battle were still fresh in her mind as she tended to him.

"Hermione," he said more softly still, "it's all right."

Her eyes welled up with tears and her hands shook as she healed the rest of his injuries. She almost dropped the goblet of potion she conjured, and had to set it down quickly to hide her trembling.

"Drink that, it will heal anything else I missed," she said in a trembling voice, before turning to Rhianna to help her out.

He and Rhianna exchanged a look when Hermione wasn't looking. They were both worried about her. They had no idea that this was going to affect her the way it was.

"Hermione, lass, where's the wee one?" Rhianna asked in an attempt to distract her.

"She fell asleep on the couch while we were waiting for someone to come back," she said quietly, trying to hide her feelings again.

Rhianna took the bloodstained cloth from Hermione's hands and set it down.

"I'm fine, lass, really. I fixed meself up fine. See? No more cuts. Let me take the little one and settle her in the spare bedroom. She'll be more comfortable."

Hermione nodded weakly, and Rhianna got up from the table, testing her knee carefully before leaving the room.

Oliver watched her stand there. She looked so lost now that she had nothing to keep herself busy with. Her hands hung limp and lifeless at her side, her shoulders slumped once more. What life she seemed to have gained in the past few weeks appeared to have vanished.

She walked quickly over to the sink in an attempt to hide her tears. She leaned on it heavily, hoping to gain some of its solid support. Everything was hitting too close to home for her to be able to deal with it all right now. Seeing Oliver and Rhianna hurt like that, it brought back memories, memories that she had no desire to revisit at all.

Harry's face swam before her eyes. His words echoed in her ears. His last breaths, his last words, his last smile, as he looked her in the eyes one last time, pride etched in every line of his face.

"_We did it Hermione. It's finally over. I finished it off for Dumbledore, for my parents. Maybe now I can rest a little, eh?"_

The look of pride was the same fierce pride present in Oliver's face when he came through the door earlier. The look that said no matter what, he would defend her to death. He was as stubborn as a mule, and he would not let Matt treat her that way. To defend her honor in whatever way possible. And to be able to withstand Matt's curses and power was cause for pride.

She bowed her head, sniffing as the tears slid down her face, thick and fast. Her shoulders shook as she tried to hold in the sobs.

Oliver stood up, his heart aching as he watched this strong witch crumble before his eyes. He walked up behind her, unsure if he should touch her or not. He watched her reflection in the window above the sink. Her look of despair was too much for him to bear. He laid a hand on her shoulder, his thumb caressing her skin through her shirt.

She gave a great shuddering gasp and looked up at his face, reflected in the window. Her eyes glistened in the light, her cheeks glittering from the tears. The intense look of worry in his eyes crumbled the last of her strength. She whirled around and buried her head in his chest, sobbing.

His arms automatically went around her small frame, holding her close. He laid his cheek against the top of her head and made small comforting noises. He rubbed her back softly, trying to get her to calm down.

"Shhhh, lass, it's all right. Don't cry now, it's gonna be all right," he whispered quietly.

He didn't realize until now just how small and fragile she was. He had no idea how she had managed to put up with the abuse for so long. She put up a brave front to the world, but underneath the brave face was a small and worn down girl, terrified of the world she lived in, and fearful for her daughter's life.

He held her until her sobs quieted, then leaned her back to look at her face. His hands went to the sides of her face, his thumbs wiping away the last of her tears. He looked into her eyes, willing her to understand him.

"It's gonna be all right, lass. Yer safe here," he said quietly.

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his, looking for some trace of deceit. Finding none, she allowed herself to relax a little. He felt her lose her stiff posture under his touch.

"Can you promise me that, Oliver? Can you promise me that Charlotte and I will be safe?"

He took her small hand into his and laid it against his chest, directly over his heart.

"This heart wouldna lie to yeh, Hermione."

Her mouth twitched into a small smile. She looked at her hand, so small in his, against his chest. Her eyes grew serious again.

"I'm so afraid, Oliver."

He lifted her chin to look him in the eye again. "You dinna have to be. I wouldna let nothin' bad happen to yeh or the wee one. And I'm willin' to bet that Rhianna would rather throw herself off the nearest loch than let him come near yeh again."

She looked slightly alarmed. "I wouldn't want that to happen."

Oliver chuckled slightly. "Does tha' reassure yeh as to how safe yeh are here?"

She nodded. "You brought back memories I thought I had put away for good when you came back hurt."

He saw her ghosts flitting around behind her eyes. They were more of a burden than she realized they were.

"I'm sorry, lass. I don't think I could ever begin to know just how hard it was on you, to be there when. . ." he trailed off, not wanting to upset her again.

"You have no idea," she whispered, "for months afterward, I couldn't sleep. They both haunted me, their faces, their voices, their last words, the last time I saw them. It was so hard to get past it. That's why I left magic. It destroyed the life that I had, it took away the only two people that had ever really supported me through all the years. They were my brothers, and they were taken away from me by magic. I couldn't deal with it. And then I lost my parents. . ."

She shook her head, as though to shake away the memories she was recalling. "I don't want to go through it again, Oliver. I would give anything not to have to deal with it all again."

He pulled her close again. "Yeh don't have to. Yeh have so many people who care about yeh and the wee one. Yeh wouldna be alone. We wouldna let yeh face it all alone. There's too many of us who love yeh too much to let yeh suffer. If yer hurtin', we're hurtin.'"

She knew he wasn't lying. And right then, that was all that mattered anymore.

* * *

Matt was in a towering rage. How could he allow himself to be beaten down by such a group of inferior wizards? How could he allow himself to be put into a position where his authority could be questioned? How could a top Ministry Auror be beaten by a bunch of normal, good-for-nothing, wife-harboring idiots?

More importantly, how could he let His Royal Quidditch-Idiot get the best of him?

He paced back and forth in the living room of the flat. That was a real blow to his manliness. Letting someone like Oliver Wood beat him. Oliver Wood was nothing more than a puffed-up Quidditch maniac who had about as much brains as the beer can Matt was holding.

Without warning, he whirled around and flung the can against the wall. It left a mark on the wall, and the can dented, but didn't do much more damage than that.

He cursed under his breath. There was a time when he could have put that can through a wall.

"Losing your grip, Matty boy," he muttered to himself, resuming his pacing.

Come to think of it, that idiot Wood was probably pumped up on steroids.

He stopped pacing again, a ridiculous grin lighting his face for a moment. He needn't worry about his wife cheating on him then. After all, everyone knew what steroids did to your manhood.

There was a knock at the door. The smile vanished as he hurried to open it.

"Good to see you again, Matt," the stranger greeted as soon as the door opened. "What can I do for you?"

Matt shook his hand and beckoned him inside.

"We need to talk. I have a little job for you."

* * *

Hermione couldn't sleep. She stood at the bedroom window, looking out at the moonlit night. Something was wrong. She knew that somewhere, he was in a towering rage, and he was planning something. She didn't know what, and she didn't want to know what, but she was letting it eat at her, causing her insomnia.

A cool breeze filtered through the open window. It smelled of sea and salt.

Another memory danced through her head. A vacation they had taken to the seaside when times were still good. Charlotte wouldn't remember it, she was barely two when they had gone.

Hermione smiled softly, watching as Matt ran with Charlotte through the waves, lifting her up as the waves would come rolling in. Charlotte was laughing adorably in her little two-year-old way. And Hermione was standing nearby, smiling at the picture the two of them made. Daddy and his little girl.

What had gone wrong?

The breeze ruffled Hermione's hair, which hung free and tousled past her shoulders. Suddenly the room was stifling to her. She couldn't stand the close feeling that was surrounding her, suddenly choking her. She had to get out of there, to be out, wild and free, letting the breeze dance around her in the night, with the moonlight.

She pulled a pair of jeans on and threw a sweatshirt that Oliver had lent her over her nightshirt. She padded softly over to Charlotte, curled sweetly under the sheet of the bed, sleeping soundly, her dreams undisturbed. She kissed her softly on the forehead before stealing out of the room quietly, pulling the door shut after her.

She paused for a moment once she was outside. The sweet night air caressed her face and the breeze softly blew her hair about. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, allowing the peace of the night to fill her up.

She listened to the night speak to her. Unseen creatures called their night songs to each other, talking to each other, singing lullabies to one another. The breeze melded all these sounds together to create nature's own symphony.

The corners of her mouth lifted in a smile. Behind all the creatures and their music, she heard what she was listening for. The waves called to her.

She walked across the grass, the dew slick underfoot. The trees beckoned their arms to her, calling her forward. She moved silently between them, letting the leaves tickle her skin as she glided like a ghost through the night.

The smell of salt and seaweed led her forward to her destination. The sand underfoot was smooth and comforting. The breeze beckoned her on, to the waves.

She walked right to the edge of the beach, right to the water's edge. The spray blew into her face, washing away her worries for the moment. It was just her and the night and the water.

She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sky, the moonlight bright against her closed lids. She lifted her arms out from her sides, allowing the breeze and water to carry away her woes. Her hair whipped out around her face, wild and free. The water licked at her toes, tickling her. The moonlight bathed her in a pure, clean light.

She was free, at last.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **I own the plot, a few characters, but sadly, everything else is Jo's.

**A.N.** I was really impressed with how many updates I got in the first few days of posting the last chapter! Thanks a lot guys! So I decided that I'd be awesome and give you guys another chapter as your Christmas present! Which should make you all happy, with the news of the title for Book 7 being released! "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows." Any speculations? I'm super excited! Anyways, on with the story, and when you're done, go click that little blue button and tell me what you think!

**Help**

**Chapter Ten**

Hermione sat on the beach, watching Charlotte chase after the gulls near the surf. It was a beautiful day, the sun was bright and warm on the skin, and the breeze was just strong enough to blow Charlotte's hair into brown tangled ringlets.

Her laughter was music to Hermione's ears. Her smile was infectious, soon, Hermione was grinning too, watching as Charlotte shrieked and giggled as she would get just close enough to pounce on an unsuspecting bird, and watch it take flight as she lunged at it.

Hermione sat on the sand, letting it sift through her fingers, and digging her toes into its cool depths. This was her heaven right now. There was nothing that could touch her and Charlotte here.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up into Oliver's smiling face.

"Can I join yeh?"

"Of course."

He sat down beside her, stretching his legs out and settling back on his elbows. For a moment, he closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sun, allowing the warmth and the beauty of the day (and the woman beside him) to fill him.

Hermione watched him, feeling the corners of her mouth lift in a small smile. She wondered if he knew just how safe he made her feel. She felt more at ease with him than she had ever truly felt with Matt. It was nice to not have to worry about so much when she was around him.

"It's a beautiful day, wouldna you agree?" he asked, turning his head to look at her.

"Yes, it's so pretty here," she agreed, watching as Rhianna ran past them to join Charlotte in scaring the poor birds.

The two of them chuckled as Rhianna scooped up the small child and ran with her down the beach, swooping her through the air as though she were a bird herself. Her shrieks of joy could be heard over the soft crashing of the waves and the cries of the gulls.

"She seems happy, doesn't she?" Hermione said softly.

"Aye, she does. I dinna think I have seen the wee one quite so full of life," Oliver said.

They fell silent, alternately watching the waves roll in and Rhianna chasing the birds with Charlotte.

"I wish life was as easy as this," Hermione sighed after awhile.

Oliver arched an eyebrow. "Explain, lass."

She looked out over the water, watching the waves crest and roll. "It's like life doesn't exist outside of this place. It's as though time has stopped here. It's so calm and peaceful, like there is no such thing as evil outside of this little world we're living in. Like nothing can touch us here. But even I know that it can't be this good. I'm just waiting for the next blow, like it's lurking just outside my range of vision, and when it hits, it's going to send me reeling again. It feels like I'm constantly looking over my shoulder."

"Would it help yeh if I told you I had some spells placed over the area to make yeh a little more safe?"

Hermione turned to look at him. "Did you?"

He nodded. "I've got some useful contacts in the Ministry. Ones that wouldna talk or let documents fall into the wrong hands," he added, seeing Hermione open her mouth.

"Are we Unplottable?"

"Aye, I've thought of just about everything I can to make this place a fortress, without the enclosed feeling," he said, his mouth twitching into a smile. He knew how much she loved the freedom here.

She smiled softly and allowed herself to fall back onto the sand. "I love this place so much."

Oliver looked down on her smiling face, her eyes closed. He felt a pang in his heart as he looked at her peaceful face. If only things weren't so complicated. He would love her to stay here for awhile, a few weeks more, a few months more.

A few lifetimes more.

He hadn't felt this happy in a long time. It was like she suddenly made his life worth living. The cottage didn't seem so cold and empty anymore. There was life to be had no matter what time he was to walk in. Either Hermione or Charlotte was around somewhere, and if they weren't in the cottage, he knew he could always find them on the beach or in the yard somewhere.

He watched as Rhianna chased Charlotte through the sand, the two of them laughing hysterically. Charlotte's laughter was infectious, as was her smile.

The sound of her laughter filling the cottage made Oliver's heart ache more. He knew this was what he was missing in his life. A family of his own.

If the day ever came, he would gladly call Charlotte his own.

And he'd be sure to put a ring on Hermione's finger, and give her the life she never knew she could have.

One without pain and worry.

* * *

Rhianna had a long talk with him last night, after Hermione and Charlotte had gone to bed.

"What are yeh gonna do, Oliver?" she asked seriously, settling herself in his favorite armchair in his Quidditch room.

"Keep her and the wee one safe, what else can I do?"

She gazed at him with that unnerving direct stare of hers, her sharp blue eyes boring into his. "I think you know what I'm talking about."

He shook his head. "I'm not gonna get any more involved than I have to. If I get any more involved, she'll start drawing away. And we don't want that to happen, do we?"

She pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them thoughtfully. "There is something more we can try."

"What?"

"Something besides a few magic tricks."

He frowned. "What are yeh on about, Rhi?"

"She needs to learn how to take the bastard on with her two hands, not just a wand."

He started shaking his head slowly. "No, I dinna think that would-"

"And do yeh really think that she's gonna be a match for him when he's in a pissed off rage? One good curse would have her on her knees, and then what, Ollie? As sure as he's a man, he'll try to kick her. And one good kick would be enough to knock her out. And what then? Who's to say that the evil prick wouldna try to kill her and take the wee one and disappear? Answer me that, Ollie."

Oliver stopped, horrorstruck by his sister's direct and blunt honesty. He knew she was right. There was no telling what Matt could resort to in an attempt to get his little girl back. Even if he hated the child, which they all knew was true, Hermione had told them what he had said the night he hurt Charlotte.

"I don't want the wee one back in his hands. She wouldn't last a week with him," he said finally.

Rhianna fixed her penetrating blue gaze on him again. "Exactly. She needs to learn. What would happen if neither of us was home and he just happened to find her here?"

Oliver's heart stopped at the very thought. His blood ran cold as he saw, in his mind's eye, a scene of terror and helplessness unfold.

"How are we gonna convince her this is what she needs?"

Rhianna smiled. "What do yeh think I do in me spare time in Romania?"

Oliver's eyebrows rose. "Yeh know that self defense rubbish?"

She frowned at him. "It's not rubbish. If the lass can learn it, it will all be to your advantage in the end, won't it?"

He didn't like where this was heading. "I dinna know what yer talkin' about," he said gruffly, getting up from his desk and walking over to the window.

"Oh no? Then why is yer face red, then?" Rhianna pressed.

He didn't answer her.

"Oh don't play the silent treatment on me, it willna work. And don't lie to yerself about yer feelin's for the lass."

He turned to face her. "Since when have yeh become such an authority on love?"

She got up and walked to the door, pausing for a second before she walked out.

"Oliver, listen to yer heart. Don't deny what yer feelin'. She's done it for too long. Don't let yerself fall into that trap."

She left him standing there like an idiot, wondering just what it was that she was hiding from him.

* * *

Hermione followed Rhianna out onto the sand, unsure of what was going on. Charlotte tagged along, skipping ahead of them and singing at the top of her lungs, carefree and happy.

"Rhianna, what is this about?" Hermione spoke up as she followed her.

Rhianna stopped abruptly, doing an about-face so quickly that Hermione almost fell over in her haste to stop.

"Yer gonna learn how to defend yerself properly," Rhianna said simply.

Hermione looked taken aback. "But I already know-"

"Yeh know how to defend yerself with a wand. That's not enough," Rhianna cut her off.

Hermione looked mildly indignant. "What do you mean it's not enough? If I'm angry enough-"

"If yer angry enough. But what if he's angrier? He almost always is. What then, Hermione? Yeh gonna lay down and take it again and again, like yeh done in the past? What about the wee one? What would yeh do if he got yer wand away from yeh and then turned on the wee one? What would yeh do? Answer me, Hermione, what would yeh do?"

Her rapid-fire approach appeared to be working on Hermione. She looked indignant, angry, confused, but above all, eager to prove herself.

"Enough! Okay, I get it! I'd be screwed if he got my wand away from me. Are you happy now?"

Rhianna smiled grimly. "This is why yeh need to learn how to use yer hands and feet. Yeh need to know how to throw a decent punch and how to knock him out with a simple kick."

Hermione looked skeptical. "And you can teach me how to do this all?"

Rhianna nodded. "I'm the one yeh want to have teach yeh. I know what I'm doin'."

Hermione simply stared at her.

"Hit me," Rhianna said suddenly.

"Come again?"

She sighed. "Hit me. I wanna see how pathetic yeh are."

Hermione looked indignant again. "But I don't want to hurt-"

"Hermione, honestly, I dinna believe yeh could hurt a fly. Hit me."

The indignance turned to mild anger.

"Dammit, Hermione hit me! Don't be pathetic!" Rhianna yelled, hoping to incense her further.

Hermione swung out as hard as she could, but Rhianna dodged it.

"Pathetic," she said, shaking her head.

Hermione glared at her.

"Mummy, why are you trying to hit Rhianna?" Charlotte asked, wandering over.

"Mummy's learnin' how to defend herself," Rhianna answered.

That earned another dirty look.

And so it went on all afternoon. By the time the sun had begun to set, Hermione was tired, sore, and pissed off. She had sand in her hair and in her shirt and a dozen other various unmentionable places that she was pretty sure she never wanted to have sand in again.

"Get up, yeh can do better than that."

"You're not telling me how!" Hermione spat angrily, shaking her hair again to rid it of sand.

"Let yer anger guide you. Channel it into yer hits."

Hermione struck out again, only to have her punch blocked, and to be thrown to the sand once more.

She let out a snarl of fury. "I give up!"

Rhianna stood with her arms crossed. "Yeh canna give up now. If yeh give up now, yeh might as well give up on life altogether."

"You're not telling me how to get better at this rubbish!"

"Instinct should kick in."

Hermione actually pounded her fist into the sand. "Well it's obviously not working!"

Rhianna smirked at her. "When yeh act like this, yeh remind me of a two-year-old. Suck it up, get in touch with yer inner self, and put some of yer anger into your punches. Then get back to me on that."

She turned and walked away, leaving one very pissed off Hermione sitting in the sand, glaring daggers at her retreating back.

Rhianna found Oliver lurking behind a tree not far off the beach. It was obvious that he was spying on them, trying to find out how things were going.

"Yeh can quit hiding behind that damn tree, Ollie," Rhianna said as she walked past.

Oliver jumped out from behind it guiltily. "How'd things go, then?"

Rhianna smirked back at him. "I would think tha' it would be obvious to yeh, what with yeh hidin' behind tha' tree."

Oliver had the decency to look ashamed. "She seemed to be fallin' down a lot."

Rhianna snorted. "Good job, genius. I couldna figured tha' one out on me own."

They walked back to the cottage.

"So is she catchin' on, then?" Oliver asked as they walked into the kitchen.

Rhianna shook her head. "She needs to learn how to put her anger into something a little more constructive. Like hitting things. She would do herself a world of good if she would only learn to stop bein' so hardheaded and just get violent."

Oliver chuckled. "But she canna hurt a fly, remember?"

Rhianna sighed. "Exactly. This is gonna take some work."

"So are yeh comin' back tomorrow?"

"I'll be comin' back as long as it takes her to catch on to the idea that she might actually have to hurt someone to get her life back."

"What time can I expect yeh, then?"

"Oh, I dinna think it will be before noon. I'll be sleepin' in tomorrow."

Something about her tone caught his ear. He glared at her suspiciously, seeing a look in her eye.

"What do yeh mean, you'll be sleepin' in tomorrow? Yeh make it sound like yeh dinna sleep in every day."

"Oh, nothing," she said quickly, turning for the door. "I best be gettin' goin', then."

He lunged for her, but she Apparated just as he grabbed for her, leaving him to face plant into the wood floor.

"Damn yeh, Rhianna!"

Hermione stomped into the kitchen, with Charlotte skipping in close behind. They both stopped when they saw Oliver on the ground.

"Don't ask," he grunted as they both opened their mouths to ask why he was on the floor. He pushed himself up gingerly, and brushed himself off.

Charlotte giggled. "Walk much?"

He scowled playfully at her. "Musta stubbed me toe."

Hermione looked at his grumpy face and knew better than what he was letting on. "Oliver Wood, the most graceful Quidditch player in the air, stub his toe? Come now, Oliver, lying is a sin."

He scowled at her this time, in response to her grin. "Everyone has their faults."

"Yeah, and you were after Rhianna about something," she retorted, going over to the sink and washing her hands. "Where has she gone off to, anyways? I was planning on giving her an earful."

"She left. She'll be back tomorrow. No idea when, though."

Hermione sniffed as she dried her hands off, then began going through the cabinets, looking for things to make dinner with.

"How'd yeh get on with her today?"

She gave him a disgruntled look. "Don't ask."

"Tha' good, eh?"

She slammed a pot down on the stove and began throwing things into it. "Get in touch with my inner self? Yeah, right! And I'm the Minister of Magic! That will happen when hell freezes over!"

Oliver's mouth twitched into a grin. "It's lookin' a little chilly down there today."

She pointed her wand at him. "Don't make me use this on you, wiseass."

He pretended to look hurt. "Yeh wouldna hex me, now, would yeh?"

Her mouth twitched in spite of her frustration. The look on his face was almost too priceless. She turned away from him so he couldn't see her grin.

"Maybe."

"Ah, but yer smilin'. Dinna lie to me, Hermione. Lyin's a sin, remember?"

She held her hands up in surrender. "You caught me. Happy now?"

"Ecstatic. Now, what can I do to help?"

"Nothing. Stay out of my hair."

He laughed. "I'd say the only thing in yer hair at the moment would be sand, and lots of it."

She pitched a potato at his head. "Keep it up and you'll be eating dirt for dinner."

He grinned at her. "Ah, but how do yeh think I managed to stay alive for all these years without yeh? I'm perfectly capable of fixin' meself food."

She wrinkled her nose. "I know what you were living off of, and honestly, I'm surprised you haven't dropped dead yet."

"Oh, now, tha's just hurtful."

"I don't wish you death. I'm just surprised you aren't dead, that's all."

He chucked the potato back at her. "Let me finish it, and yeh can get yerself a shower before we eat. Dinna yeh want to get the sand out of yer hair?"

She looked at him for a second, then set down her knife. "I guess. And just about every other place," she added in an undertone.

He chuckled as she walked out of the room and took up her place at the counter, chopping vegetables and throwing things together to make an edible meal.

"Wha' do yeh say, Charlie girl?" he said to Charlotte as she set the table.

"Are we gonna be able to eat what you're making?" she asked, wrinkling her nose as she walked past the stove.

"Dinna yeh worry yer pretty little head, Charlie girl. This is gonna be the best meal yeh ever did eat!"

"That's what I was afraid of," she said, shaking her head and walking back to the table to set down some napkins.

He shook his head. "Women," he muttered.

"Charlie girl, let me ask yeh a question," he said after awhile.

"Okay."

"Do yeh like livin' here?"

She nodded her head vigorously. "Yes! I love playing on the beach and chasing the birds! And I like being happy all the time now. I don't have to be quiet and stay in my room, like I did before."

He nodded. "I'll see what I can do for yeh. Would yeh like to stay here?"

She smiled. "I never wanna leave!"

He grinned. "Okay. When things settle down, I'll talk to yer mother about things."

"I don't want to go back, Oliver," she said seriously.

The look of sadness that suddenly crossed her face nearly broke his heart in two. "I wouldna let that happen to yeh, lass."

If he had it his way, he would make sure that they stayed here for the rest of their lives. He would make Hermione his, and Charlotte would have the father she never had.

He would be their guardian angel.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, a few characters, but sadly, everything else is Jo's.

**A.N.** Okay, okay. Don't shoot me. I've had a lot going on since I last updated, and almost no time to sit down and write another chapter. Between my grandparents being in and out of the hospital, and my uncle being diagnosed with lung cancer, I think I have a good reason to not have updated. So don't kill me. Hopefully this chapter makes up for the wait. When you're done reading, go leave me something letting me know what you thought.

**Help**

**Chapter Eleven**

A few weeks after the initial disaster that was Hermione's first self-defense lesson, she was improving greatly, at least to Rhianna she was.

Hermione threw a punch, which Rhianna blocked, and sent her to the ground. But instead of sitting there helpless, Hermione whirled around, sending her leg into Rhianna's feet, and throwing her off balance, leaving her to fall to the sand in a heap.

"That," she said, spitting out a mouthful of sand, "was much better."

Hermione grinned. "I think you've created a monster, Rhianna."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh please. If I didn't think you needed this, I wouldn't have helped you, now would I?"

Hermione stood up and extended a hand to help Rhianna up as well. "Before all this, I thought violence was a bad thing. Now, I think it's starting to become my best friend."

Rhianna laughed. "As long as you know when to use it."

"Yeah, as long as I know when to use it. He's gonna wish he never pissed me off the next time he tries to pull something."

Rhianna smiled. Hermione was learning real quick that it was not going to do her well to be timid and afraid the next time Matt showed up. This was more than she had hoped for.

"It's warm. Let's go stick our feet in the water to cool off."

"Okay," Hermione said, following Rhianna to the water's edge, where the waves were crashing higher than normal due to a strong onshore breeze.

The water felt good on their feet after sweating in the sun for an hour or so. The two were practically giddy with amusement. They splashed about childishly, but neither would admit to it.

Meanwhile, Charlotte was in the cottage, staring at Hermione's wand, which was resting on the table next to the bed in the room they were sharing.

She knew that she shouldn't touch it. Mummy had expressly forbidden her from touching it. She said that she could hurt herself very badly if she touched it. But Charlotte didn't think that was very rational. She knew that she had to wave it around and say words to get the wand to do anything. The idea that Charlotte could hurt herself just by picking it up was really quite stupid, in her opinion. The only way she could hurt herself was if she fell on it and impaled herself, or did something really stupid like jab the sharp end into her eye (which in of itself was about the dumbest thing a person could do, really.)

Charlotte bit her lip. It couldn't hurt to just pick it up and look at it. Better yet, she could take it to Mummy and say that she didn't like her to be without it for very long, even if she was with Rhianna, who always was armed no matter what.

Yes, that was what she would do. She cast a sideways look toward the door, making sure no one was there. Grinning sneakily, she snatched the wand off the table and hurried out of the room to find her mum.

Hermione and Rhianna were a little more wet than they had planned on getting, but damn it, the water felt too good, and the day was far to glorious not to take advantage of the near perfect conditions. The waves were crashing higher, as the onshore breeze had started to puff a little stronger.

Charlotte came strolling down the sand toward them, her hands carefully concealing the wand behind her back. She knew that Mummy wouldn't be very happy with her, regardless of the excuse she gave her, but it was worth it just to hold the wand just for once.

"What do yeh say there, Charlie girl?" Rhianna called to her as she came close.

"You're wet," Charlotte said, wrinkling her nose at the two of them.

"Aye, but the water's a bit too fine to not be splashin' about," Rhianna said, giggling as she kicked some water at Hermione.

Hermione shrieked and kicked some back at her. Almost immediately, the two were engaged in a heavy splashing war. They might as well have just gone swimming, as soaked as they now were.

Charlotte smiled, watching her mum acting like a five year old was quite entertaining. She forgot that she was holding the wand, and her arms came from behind her back as she fought to hide her giggles behind her hands.

Hermione stopped splashing when she realized that Charlotte was holding something that didn't look like a normal stick.

"Charlie," she said warningly.

Rhianna looked inquiringly between the two.

"Yes, Mummy?" Charlotte tried to use her sweet innocent look, plastering her normally winning smile on her face.

"What have I told you about touching my wand?" she asked sternly.

"I just thought that you should have it. Oliver says you really shouldn't go anywhere without it on you."

Hermione cast a suspicious look at her little girl.

"The wee one's right, yeh know," Rhianna said, giving Hermione her beady stare.

Hermione sighed. "I suppose you're right. Give it here, Charlie."

Charlotte looked at it in her hand. She couldn't wait to get her own. As she handed it over to her mum, she gave it a twirl without really meaning to.

The next second, Hermione went as still as stone, and without so much as a warning or word, she crashed backward into the waves.

Rhianna doubled up laughing, thinking Hermione was playing a trick. But when she didn't get up, the laughter ceased instantly.

"Hermione?"

Charlotte looked horrified. "Mum?"

Oliver came walking out from the trees just in time to see Hermione fall backward into the water. Thinking that she was joking with Rhianna and Charlotte, he chuckled to himself as he walked closer to the water's edge.

Hermione couldn't get up. Somehow, Charlotte had managed to hit her with the Full Body Bind. How the little imp had managed to do that, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that the water was just a little too wet for her liking, and she couldn't even get up. She wasn't exactly amused at the moment. She could see Rhianna and Charlotte looking down at her, but they weren't doing a thing to help her out.

Charlotte burst into tears. "I killed Mummy!" she wailed.

Rhianna wasn't sure what had happened. She tried to reach into the water to grab her, but the water kept making her fingers slip, and Hermione wasn't exactly as light as a feather soaking wet.

Oliver grew concerned when he didn't see Hermione get up. He jogged over, absolutely perplexed as to why Charlotte was crying hysterically and why Rhianna wasn't trying to get Hermione out of the water.

"Don' just stand there, yeh useless Quidditch idiot! Save her!" Rhianna shrieked at him as soon as he was near enough.

Hermione definitely was not liking this right now. Another few seconds, and she was going to become fish food. She couldn't breathe, and Rhianna wasn't being of much use at the moment. Of course, being underwater and locked in the Full Body Bind wasn't the best of situations to be getting yourself into either.

Oliver sloshed into the water and plucked Hermione from the waves, which, for some reason, to Rhianna, looked like they were trying valiantly to eat her away into fish food.

Oliver carefully set her down on the sand, sopping wet and still locked in the Full Body Bind. Oliver knew instantly what the problem was, and whipped out his wand to cast the countercharm.

Charlotte stood sobbing hysterically near Rhianna. When Hermione didn't spring up from the sand as soon as the charm was lifted, Charlotte began to sob harder.

"I killed Mummy!"

Oliver frowned. He stuck his ear down near her nose, listening for any air.

"Oh damn," he said weakly, before beginning mouth to mouth resuscitation.

Hermione, in quite a lovely dreamlike state now, was very much aware of Oliver attaching himself firmly to her lips to try and force air into her lungs. And she was quite elated. No, not just elated, damn near ready to do back flips through the air, that is, if she was conscious to do it.

"Damn it, Hermione, breathe!" Oliver swore.

And breathe she did. Coughing up seawater and what felt like half a salt block, Hermione rolled over and gasped for air.

Charlotte ceased crying immediately and dropped down on her knees next to her mum.

"Oh Mummy! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do that! I swear I didn't! Don't be mad at me! Mummy! Mummy! Are you okay?!"

"Let her breathe, lass, let her breathe," Rhianna said gently, pulling her away.

Hermione wheezed as she sat up shakily. "What. . .in the name of all Merlin. . .just happened?"

"The waves were trying to eat you," Rhianna supplied helpfully.

Charlotte held out the wand feebly. "I accidentally twirled it when I was handing it to you. I didn't mean to, Mummy, I swear."

Hermione took the wand and stuck it in her sodden pocket. Then she looked at Oliver, who was trying to look nonchalant about the fact that he just saved her life by giving her mouth to mouth.

He was very hung up on the mouth to mouth bit of it all.

Then again, so was Hermione, but she pretended that she was not aware of the fact that Oliver's (very soft, and very, very kissable) lips were just attached to hers.

"Did you get me out of the water?"

He nodded sheepishly, running a hand through his hair in a distracted way. She noticed her did that a lot around her when he was nervous, or embarrassed, or whatever.

She smiled. "Thank you for saving my life," she said, and leaned over to kiss him gently on the cheek.

She noticed his eyes had glazed over slightly as she pulled away. His hand went to the spot where her lips had touched his skin, and he had the silliest half grin imaginable on his face.

Rhianna sighed and rolled her eyes. She leaned forward and snapped her fingers right in front of his face. He blinked and jerked back away from her hand.

"What?" he asked indignantly.

"Never mind. Come on, Hermione. Yer soaked. I'm soaked. We need dry clothes. And Ginny said she was comin' round sometime today. And I dinna think yeh want company comin' when yeh got bits of seaweed all tangled in yer brown locks."

Hermione's hand went up to her hair. Feeling the numerous pieces of seaweed attached firmly to her head made her frown. This definitely ranked up there with one of Matt's beatings. It was bad enough to get stuck in the Full Body Bind by your little daughter who isn't even supposed to know how to do magic, but to be in the Full Body Bind, end up in water, nearly drown, and then come out of it with what feels like a mountain of salt in your lungs and seaweed in your hair? No, no, the seaweed was pushing it just a step too far, in her opinion.

"Here, let me," Oliver said, leaning forward and picking out long strands of the slimy green seaweed.

"Urgh," Hermione groaned softly as he came away with two particularly large strands.

"I'm thinkin' yer gonna be needin' a shower, lass," Oliver said decisively a few minutes later as he took away the last huge strand he could find.

"I think you're right. When's Ginny supposed to get here?" she asked Rhianna.

She shrugged. "I dinna know. But I'm thinkin' yeh have enough time to get a shower in. It's not like Ginny would care so much if yeh were in the shower when she got here."

"Good."

She stood up, nearly lost her balance (the lack of oxygen for those few minutes was evidently making sure she knew about it), and recovered her balance to march off toward the cottage with as much dignity as she could manage, for a woman who had nearly been, as Rhianna had stated so brilliantly, eaten by the waves.

* * *

Hidden away far enough in the trees, but with a good view of what was going on down on the sand, a man watched the whole dramatic episode unfold. Armed with his wand and a pair of Omnioculars for a better view, he sat patiently, carefully making sure he was remembering all the details clearly, for when he reported back to his client later on.

His lip curled when he saw how well Hermione was getting on with her self defense. He was pretty sure that this bit of news would not be welcomed. He sneered with cold pleasure when Hermione was stuck in the Full Body Bind and went backward into the waves. The little girl's sobs and cries were literally music to his ears. He cackled aloud when he saw the Quidditch show-off try to "valiantly" rescue his damsel in distress.

But when he saw her awaken and give him a kiss on the cheek for his services, he frowned for the first time. If there was going to be one bit of information that would send him into a rage, this would be it.

He shivered with the thought of the rage that was soon to come. This was not going to be a very pleasant evening.

He just hoped that he had some firewhiskey on hand. He was pretty sure he was going to need it.

* * *

After a blasting hot shower and some much needed scrubbing, Hermione emerged from the shower a half hour later, wrapped in a towel and hacking up another small mountain of salt.

"Ack!" she spat as her lungs rumbled with what sounded like another avalanche of salt just waiting to be hacked up. "That is the last time I ever go near salt water and nearly drown!"

As she came around the corner to the room she shared with Charlotte, Oliver emerged from his office right next to it.

And Hermione was only clad in a fluffy towel.

Oliver stopped dead when he saw her. His eyes went wide, and, much like a typical male, he didn't seem to have the decency to turn away when he saw how very little she was wearing.

With something like a squeak and a strangled cry of shock, Hermione threw herself into her room and slammed the door behind her. She clutched her towel tightly around her, her breathing quite heavy and ragged (from the mountain of salt still waiting to be coughed up).

Once she was sure she had recovered from the nasty shock of Oliver seeing her in nothing but a towel, she turned to the dresser and began pulling out some clothes.

"Men," she muttered, a blush creeping across her cheeks.

Oliver stood horribly shell-shocked for a minute or two after Hermione had dashed into her room and slammed the door.

She had been in nothing more than a towel.

"Oh Merlin," he groaned, feeling his heart thudding a violent tattoo against his Adam's apple.

He turned around and marched right back into his office, and shut the door. He definitely did not want another repeat of that.

Okay. . .maybe he did. Oh, hell, who was he kidding? He'd be the happiest man alive if that happened again any time soon. He'd probably die of bliss if she happened to be wearing nothing but one of his shorter, older towels.

He beat his head against the doorframe. Nope, this was not going to bid well for a comfortable evening.

He definitely needed to get laid. . .

Or possibly go for a calming mid-afternoon ride.

Yes. That was a good idea. Something to calm his frayed nerves.

* * *

Ginny was sitting at the kitchen table with Rhianna when Hermione finally came out, fully dressed, her hair and makeup back to perfection once more.

"I hear you nearly were made into fish food," Ginny greeted her, with a twitch of a smile.

Hermione gave Rhianna a dirty look as she sat down and pulled the teapot toward her to fix herself a cup.

"Yeah, it was a real blast, let me tell you. I feel like I've got a heap of salt the size of Mount Everest in my lungs, and I'm pretty sure the seaweed was dying to take up permanent residence in my mane. Yes, it was just a lovely afternoon."

Ginny and Rhianna laughed.

"But you're still here," Ginny said, patting her hand sympathetically.

"Well, yes, I wasn't going to let the sea get the best of me. Really, it's all thanks to Oliver. This one here," she jerked her thumb at Rhianna, "was of no use at all. She couldn't seem to drag me out of the water."

Rhianna looked quite indignant. "Let me see yeh try to haul me ass out of the water when I'm weighed down with wet clothes and I'm in the Full Body Bind! It's not all daisies and roses like yeh think it was!"

Hermione's mouth twitched for an instant. She was just giving her a rough time. She knew that she tried. That was all that mattered.

"Speaking of that puffed up Quidditch maniac brother of yours, where is he?" Ginny asked. "I haven't seen him."

Rhianna shrugged. "No idea. Hermione? Any ideas?"

She choked on her tea.

Ginny patted her on the back to help her dislodge it from her windpipe. "Did we miss something?"

Hermione took a deep, wheezing breath. "He, erm, sorta. . .'

"What?" Rhianna and Ginny both chimed.

"Well, I came out of the shower and was walking to my room with nothing but a towel on. . ."

"Ah. Say no more, lass. My brother got a bit of eye candy and is now too bloody embarrassed to show his overly male and perverted face around here for awhile," Rhianna said with a smirk.

"Eye candy?" Hermione puffed up indignantly.

"Hey, don't complain. If he's too embarrassed to show his face around here for awhile, it means he saw something he liked, but is too embarrassed to admit it. I'd say someone's got a little crush," Ginny said teasingly.

Then they both started in on Hermione. Soon, they had her blushing so furiously, she just about matched Ginny's hair.

"So when's the wedding?"

"We're gonna be maids of honor, right?"

"Where's the honeymoon gonna be?"

"Hermione and Oliver! Mrs. Oliver Wood! Oh, doesn't it have a nice ring to it?"

"OKAY!" Hermione shrieked after five minutes of the endless banter.

They all exchanged looks before bursting into giggles.

"Speaking of weddings and such," Ginny said after they calmed down, giving Rhianna a stern look.

Rhianna gave a slight squeak over the rim of her cup as she took a drink of tea.

"Yes, I'm talking about you," Ginny said pointedly, taking the cup from her and setting it down.

Hermione turned to look at Rhianna with an interested look on her face. "Wedding? What's going on Rhianna? Are you seeing someone?"

Rhianna gave a noncommittal shrug, but a slight blush had creeped up into her face, and she had a silly grin as well.

"Oh yes, she is," Ginny said, smiling. "I've only been bothering her for the past three months as to when we're gonna see wedding invitations or hear wedding bells."

"And how long have you been seeing this mystery man?" Hermione pried.

Again, Rhianna shrugged, trying not to go any further with this than she had to. "A year or more, I haven't been keeping track."

"The hell you haven't!" Ginny cried. "My ass if you haven't got the months, weeks, days, hours, and minutes memorized!"

Rhianna sighed, then looked at her watch. "One year, eight months, three weeks, twelve days, fifteen hours, thirty-seven minutes, and one, two, three seconds."

"Aha!" Both Ginny and Hermione exclaimed triumphantly.

"So Rhianna, when's the wedding again?"

"What wedding?" Oliver had just walked in, with Charlotte trailing behind him, clutching a broom.

Rhianna really did choke on her tea this time. "No wedding at all, dear brother."

Oliver narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his little sister. Whenever she used the words "dearest brother," he knew that something was up.

"Were they talking about you, Rhianna?" he asked shrewdly.

She shook her head a little too quickly. "Nope, not me."

Ginny and Hermione exchanged a look. This was going to get interesting real fast.

Oliver didn't believe her for an instant. "Sure they weren't. And I'm the MVP of the year, Rhianna. Has anyone ever told you that you're horrible at lying about your personal life?"

"You were MVP of the year last year," she pointed out, hoping to distract him.

"Don't try to change the subject, lass," he said sternly.

She visibly deflated under his direct gaze. She looked around wildly at the other two for help. Both just sat there and tried hard not to burst out laughing.

"Well, as great as it was to see yeh again, Gin, I really do need to be gettin' on, so I'll just see you all later!"

And with that, she hopped up and Disapparated just out of Oliver's reach, so he couldn't grab her to stop her.

"Damn her! Why does she always do that?" he cursed.

Hermione and Ginny giggled. He rounded on them.

"Someone wanna explain to me what yeh all were goin' on about?"

They both shook their heads.

"Whatever it was we were talking about stays between us. It's her business," Ginny told him.

"But she's my little sister!"

"It's her life. Let her live it."

"But. . .but. . .but, but, but. . ." he sputtered indignantly.

"Save it, Oliver," Ginny said, getting up. "I need to get going. It was lovely seeing you again, Hermione. You, Charlie, and Oliver should come by sometime," she said, placing careful emphasis on Charlotte's nickname.

It flew right over the top of Oliver's head. But Hermione caught on quickly. She nodded vigorously.

"We will. Won't we, Oliver?" she nudged him in the ribs as she stood up to give Ginny a hug.

"Ouch. Yes, we will. Tell everyone we said hello."

Ginny Disapparated a few minutes later, leaving a slightly awkward silence in her wake. Oliver was looking uncomfortable, and Hermione was blushing slightly again, remembering earlier.

"Look, lass, I dinna mean-"

"I know. You didn't mean to see what you did. But I must say, you might have had the decency to keep your eyes in your head," she teased.

He laughed nervously. "Whoops?"

"Yes, I would say that was a big 'whoops,'" she grinned.

"Really though, what was this wedding talk about?"

"Oliver!"

"Whaaaaaat?"

She shook her head. This was going to be an interesting night.

* * *

So there you go. There was, if you couldn't tell, a lot of comedy going on in the chapter, due to the fact that the next one or two will probably rather subdued.

Oh, and to my reader **pretzel.in.an.egg.** There was a big hint as to who Rhianna's "friend" was that she was spending so much time with in the past few chapters. You said you had a sneaking suspicion as to who it was. Did you guess correctly? Or did I throw you completely off base? Let me know, I'm interested in what you were thinking.

Thanks guys, and go review, please!


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, a few characters, but sadly, everything else is Jo's.

**A.N.** You guys make me sooooo happy sometimes! I'm really grateful to the response I got to the last chapter! You guys rock! Just keep it up and let me know what you think, or what you wanna see! I'll gladly take all suggestions into account! Now, on with the story!

**Help**

**Chapter Twelve**

The Pensieve was swept off the table and smashed to the floor, breaking into a thousand or more bits. The swirling mass of thoughts that had previously belonged in the basin now twisted freely on the floor.

The man twitched slightly at the sudden movement, but otherwise said nothing. He was used to his client's temper by now.

"What the hell was that?!" Matt hissed as he shoved himself off the couch.

The man chose to remain silent. It was best to regard any questions as rhetorical unless directly addressed.

"I should have just done away with her when I damn well had the chance! The little whore!" he exclaimed as he paced around in a circle.

He kicked out violently at a pile of empty beer bottles as he passed the couch, sending glass shards everywhere. The man raised an arm to keep the shards from flying into his face.

"Honey? What's going on?" a voice floated down the hallway.

The man turned to see a stunning blonde come sashaying down the hallway, clad only in a pair of _very_ short shorts and a rather tight tank top.

He snorted and turned to face his client, his eyebrow arched.

Matt looked slightly flustered for a moment. "Nothing. It's fine. Go back to bed, I'll be there shortly."

She cast a suspicious eye upon the man, but otherwise said nothing. She turned and walked back to the bedroom, her hips swinging in such a way that confirmed the man's suspicions that she was, in fact, just another typical dumb bar blonde, who spread her legs for just about any good looking man walking around with enough testosterone to satisfy her needs.

He turned back to his client, the eyebrow still raised.

"Don't give me that look!" Matt snapped, annoyed.

"Did I say anything?" the man asked sagely.

Matt glared at him, then looked around at the mess he had caused in his rage. With a wave of his wand, it all disappeared.

"So what now?" the man asked after a few moments of silence.

"I'll get to her, one way or the other, mark my words."

"How so, if I may ask?"

Matt turned to face him, the manic glint in his eye quite obvious.

"That's for me to know, and for you to find out."

The man sighed. "Fine. Give me my money then."

With another wave of his wand, Matt made a bag full of money appear in the man's hands. He walked him to the door, and as he shut the door, said, "If I need you, you'll hear from me."

The man walked down the stairs of the apartment building, stuffing his bag of money in his pocket as he went.

"Fucking hypocrite," he muttered as he walked out into the cool night air.

* * *

Hermione was terrified. She was backed into a corner again, and Matt was in a towering rage. Again. How surprising.

"What did I do this time?" she screamed at him.

"It's the fact that I married you! You're nothing but a fuck up! I don't know what I was thinking!"

His words stung, but not as much as the red mark he left on her cheek.

"I'm sorry you wasted your time on me then! I don't know why the hell I've stuck around all these years if you hate me so much!" she screamed, tears running down her face.

"Mummy?" a little voice asked, scared.

They whipped around to see Charlotte come into the living room, clutching her blankey and looking terrified.

"What are you doing to Mummy?" she asked, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.

"Go back to bed, Charlotte," Matt snapped.

"Don't hurt Mummy!" she cried, tears slipping down her face.

"Charlotte! Go back to bed!" he yelled, his face purpling.

"Stop hurting Mummy!" she shrieked.

With a roar, he turned his wand on her. "_Avada Kedavra!"_

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Hermione screamed as Charlotte crumpled to the ground.

With a jolt, Hermione awoke, tangled in her sheets and sweating profusely. She reached up to wipe her face to discover tears mixed in with the sweat as well.

"Bloody hell," she muttered, her hands shaking as she wiped away the tears and sweat.

She got up from her bed, her sheets in a tangled ball, and crept over to Charlotte's bed. She checked to see that she was still sound asleep and actually breathing (that dream had seemed so bloody real), and kissed her softly on the forehead before walking out of the room.

Without really meaning too, she walked into Oliver's study. She had never been in there before, but from what Rhianna told her, he had a lot of Quidditch things. She figured that would be a good enough distraction from her current mind frame.

She turned his small desk light on and looked around. There wasn't an inch of space that wasn't devoted to Quidditch. She walked over to a glass case mounted on the wall. A closer look revealed that it was Oliver's very first broomstick. She smiled to herself as she pictured a five year old Oliver zooming around on it.

She moved slowly around the room, examining each little bit of memorabilia. All his favorite Quidditch teams had their own designated spots on the walls, all clustered around one another. Of course, his own Puddlemere United had the predominance of artifacts. The team colors were present everywhere in the room, right down to the team emblem pressed into the carpet.

She shook her head a little when she noticed the emblem in the carpet, but couldn't help but grin. Her eyes alighted on the bookshelf near the window, and she walked over to quickly scan the volumes. Just about everything to do with Quidditch, although, near the bottom, she found a shelf designated for all his old school books.

She straightened up, and something she saw out of the corner of her eye made her breath catch in her throat. She picked up the picture frame to look at it more closely.

It was a picture of the Gryffindor Quidditch team from Oliver's seventh and final year at school. He stood at the back, smiling broadly and proudly, his champion team crowded all around him. Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet were waving frantically at the camera. Katie Bell tried to give her full attention to the camera, but kept a suspicious eye on the Weasley twins, who, unsurprisingly, looked like they were plotting something diabolical.

And there was Harry. Grinning proudly forevermore, remembered in this moment as the thirteen year old boy who helped lead his House team to victory in the Quidditch final against their nemesis, Slytherin.

Her heart clenched with loss all over again as she watched Harry grin and wave at her from the picture.

"Hermione?"

She gasped and whirled around, the picture frame still clenched in her hand.

"Oliver! I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"What are yeh doin' up so late? It's nearly three in the mornin'."

She looked down, remembering the dream. "I had a bad dream."

He looked at her closely. "What kind of dream?"

She tried to brush it away, and tried to ignore the question by placing the picture back on the shelf where she found it.

"It was nothing."

He looked sleepily concerned. "It was him, wasn' it?"

"It doesn't really matter, does it? It's always him. He'll never leave me and Charlotte the hell alone."

Oliver rubbed a hand across his face, trying to coax his sleepy brain into working. "Yes, he will. He's not gonna hurt yeh and the lass anymore. We've been over this before, Hermione."

Hermione looked down again, her eyes filling with tears. He was being short with her. Maybe she deserved it. Maybe she really was a pathetic weakling that deserved everything that had been dealt to her. She kept losing hope. Where was that strong, pigheaded teenager that she used to know?

She had died with the boys, that's where she went.

She sniffed. She was being stupid. She needed to move on, and quit looking over her shoulder for the ghosts of her past. She needed to be strong and brave for her little girl, and for Oliver. Oliver was the best thing that had happened to her since the War, and since things went bad with Matt.

"Ah, Hermione, lass, don' cry," Oliver pleaded, rubbing a hand up and down her arm.

She wiped away a tear that escaped. "I'm sorry. I understand your annoyance. I deserve it, I'm being stupid."

"No."

She looked up at how forceful his tone was. His gaze was intense.

"Never say that yeh deserve what yeh got. Yeh were given the short end of the stick. It wasna fair, for the lass or for yeh."

She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

He lifted her chin to look him directly in the eye. "And never say yer sorry."

She nodded. "Okay."

He turned to gaze fondly at the picture she had been looking at when he walked in. "I noticed yeh were lookin' at the old team."

She too turned to look at it again. Harry's grin still made her heart hurt. "I'm still not over losing him. I don't think I ever will be. Just looking at that picture makes my heart hurt, as though it happened just yesterday."

His eyes were sad when he looked at her again. "Do yeh wanna talk about it?"

She thought for a moment, then her mouth twitched in a sad smile. "It's nearly three in the morning, and you want to hear my sob story?"

He took her hand and led her over to the big easy chair near his desk. "I'll listen to yeh any time yeh need an ear."

He sat down and pulled her to sit nestled against the overstuffed arm of the chair, her legs swung over his. She sat ramrod straight, not leaning against him. She felt slightly awkward, and, out of habit, she looked down at her ring finger, only to realize that it no longer wore the wedding band that Matt had given her as a token of his love.

She shook her head slightly. Yeah, right, love.

She sighed. "I thought that I'd be over losing them by now. It's been nearly ten years."

He nodded understandingly. "Yeh thought that it would heal with time."

"I don't know why it hurts so much. Yes, they were like brothers to me, but I always had a gut feeling deep down inside as the Final Battle drew nearer that there was a very good chance that I would lose them."

"But yeh didn't wanna believe it."

"Of course not. During the day, it was easy to brush it aside, what with my Healer training and rushing around to all the different battlefields, trying to patch everyone up. But at night, it was torture. All the days horrors would come back to haunt me, as well as that inescapable feeling of impending doom. I knew what was coming. I knew that they both would be right in the thick of things, doing their best to bring it all to an end."

Oliver smiled, remembering how stubborn Harry could be, both on and off the Quidditch pitch. "Potter and Weasley were both headstrong. Yeh knew them better than I did. But I knew enough to know that they would rather have died fighting for what they believed in than to be defeated by the evil they were so against."

"I know. I would tell myself that, over and over at night, when I couldn't sleep. I knew, in my heart, that's what I would want to. I wouldn't have wanted to die a coward. I would want to die fighting for my cause. And I knew that if that's what it came down to, then that's how it would end. By the time the Final Battle came around, I had convinced myself that I would willingly sacrifice myself to save either of them, or both of them. Any of the Order, really."

He touched her hand lightly. "That's the Hermione I remember."

She looked at him sadly. "I never got my chance. At the last minute, Harry ordered me to stay behind, and care for those who were wounded. He said he would rather me stay behind, and know that I was safe, than to have to worry about me, and get distracted."

"I can understand his logic. I wouldna want to have my mind in two places at once when I'm up against Lord Voldemort. Surely yeh can see that as well."

She nodded. "I didn't understand at first. But I didn't have the chance to argue with him. He and Ron both left at the same time. All I had time to do was to kiss them both on the cheek and tell them to be safe, and that I loved them both very much. I told them I would see them after the Battle was over, once we had won."

Oliver watched her face as she relived that horrible night all over again. The look in her eyes was distant, her face as white as it surely was that night.

She buried her face in her hands. "I can still hear their last words, see their smiling, proud faces as they waved at me one last time before Apparating off to the Battle," she trembled out.

He rubbed her back soothingly.

"Yeh were busy that night, I can imagine."

She lifted her face from her hands, the tears sliding down slowly. "You have no idea. It was one casualty after another. I was up to my elbows in blood, dirt, magic. For some, there was no hope. I could tell as soon as I saw my next patient. But I did what I could to make it less painful for them, always never having enough time to spend on them before being dragged off to the next patient. Some of them still haunt me. The ones that were competent enough to know that they were dying. The look in their eyes as I moved on to the next patient still makes me sick."

He was still rubbing her back, trying to keep her calm. "But it has to help to know that yeh did what you could for them. They had to know that. They knew what they were getting into."

"I know. I knew what I was getting myself into. But it didn't really bother me until after the fact, when it was all over. Once I had found out that I had lost both the boys."

He knew this part of the story would be hard. "What happened next?"

She wiped away some of her tears with a trembling hand. "Some of the Order Apparated back to the off-site location where they were sending all the casualties. They were rejoicing. Voldemort had been defeated at last. It was over. I had a few happy minutes relishing in the fact that I wouldn't have to worry anymore if I would be the next victim, being a Mudblood and all."

His eyes flashed at the mention of 'Mudblood,' but otherwise, he said nothing.

"And then it all went horribly wrong."

Her shoulders shook with silent sobs. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself down.

"Remus Lupin and Mad Eye Moody Apparated back with Ron supported between them. I didn't know what was going on at first. Everyone was yelling, celebrating, and then, when they Apparated back, those closest to them went quiet. It spread through the crowd, like a ripple effect. I was near the back of the crowd. When I realized it went quiet, I started shoving my way through people, trying to find out what was wrong. And then I saw him, my Ron, his face white. . .his eyes closed. . ."

She let her sobs escape. Her shoulders shook and heaved, her breath gasping, her tears falling freely. Oliver wrapped his arms around her, and cradled her to his chest. He laid his cheek against the stop of her head, rocking her back and forth, like a child.

"I didn't want to believe it! But when I looked at Lupin, and saw him crying, I knew he was gone! And I didn't even get the chance to accept it, when Hagrid came back with Harry in his arms. . ."

"But Harry was still alive when he came back, right?"

She nodded against his chest. "Hagrid set him down carefully. I rushed to him, knelt down by him, took his hand, told him it was going to be okay, I was there, and I was going to make him all right again. He was bleeding all over the place. Malfoy had cursed him with Merlin knows what, and I tried to stop it, I really did! But I think Harry knew that he wasn't going to make it. He grabbed both my hands, stopping me from fussing over all his wounds, forcing me to focus on his face. He was so proud, it was etched into his face. His eyes were blazing, but fading. He squeezed my hands, smiling fiercely, a victorious warrior at last. I can still hear his last words."

Her tears were soaking Oliver's shirt, but he didn't care. He tried to hold her closer.

"He said, _'We did it, Hermione. It's finally over. I finished it off for Dumbledore, for my parents. Maybe now I can rest a little, eh?' _And then, he drew one more last shuddering breath, and his eyes drifted shut, the proud smile still on his face. And then his hands went limp in mine," her voice was very small now, the grief and pain welling up to an almost unbearable point.

"If silence was what surrounded us when they brought Ron back, it was nothing compared to how quiet it was after Harry. . ." she drew a breath, refusing to say it, even now, almost ten years later. "I looked up at Hagrid, and Lupin, and the rest. Their faces mirrored what I felt inside. It was as though someone had shattered my heart. The pieces were lodged in painful places inside, and I couldn't get them unstuck. All I remember is this cold numbness. I couldn't feel anything for weeks afterward. It was as though I had died with them that day."

Oliver stroked her hair softly. "But yer still here, Hermione. And no matter what, yer always gonna have them with you, inside. In yer heart. As long as yeh don't let the evil beat yeh, as long as yeh can still love, that's all they would've wanted for yeh."

"I should have listened to Ginny in the first place," she said softly, staring at the wall, her head still resting against Oliver's chest.

"What did Ginny have to say?"

"When I left the magical world, she told me that was the stupidest thing I could have ever done. She told me that Harry and Ron wouldn't have wanted that for me. And when I say left, I mean, I left it all behind. I gave my wand to Ginny to keep safe, and I moved in with my parents. I wanted nothing to do with it all. Not when it had taken away my boys."

Oliver was puzzled. "But what-?"

She looked up at him, her eyes shiny and tired. "If I had thought that I could escape the tragedy that seemed to follow me in the magical world, I was sadly mistaken. My parents were killed in a car accident a few months later. But before that, I had stopped into the Leaky Cauldron a few times. I realized I missed the magical world, and needed some sort of news of what was going on. I finally grew brave enough to go inside one day. And that day, everything changed. . .I thought for the good."

He gave her a questioning look.

"That was the day I met Matt McAllister."

She burrowed her head into his chest again. "How stupid could I be?"

Again, he laid his cheek against the top of her head. "Yer not stupid," he murmured. "Look at what good came from it. Yeh have Charlotte, now, don' yeh?"

She smiled. "Yes, I don't know what I would do without her."

He smiled too. "She's a great little lass. She has a good mother. As long as yeh have each other, yeh can' go wrong."

She nodded sleepily against his chest. For a few minutes, it was quiet, and Hermione was feeling a little more peaceful now that she had finally talked, in detail, about what had happened to destroy the good part of her life. This was the first time that she had actually told someone what had happened, without leaving out the parts that were too painful for her to deal with.

"Hermione?"

"Mmm?" she was starting to creep toward hazy sleep.

"I don' want yeh to leave."

"Mmmph?" she mumbled, not wanting to open her eyes.

"I want yeh to stay. I want yeh and the lass to stay, forever."

She opened her eyes blearily, and tilted her head up to look at him. "What are you on about, Oliver?"

He looked down at her seriously. "I want to make yeh happy. Charlotte loves it here, she would be so happy if yeh stayed. Hermione, I want us to be a family."

Her heart skipped a few beats. "Oliver?"

He bent his head down, so that their foreheads were touching, his nose barely touching hers.

"I know this is the wrong time, but I can' keep it in any longer. I want to make yeh my wife, and Charlotte my little girl, and I want us to be a family. I can keep yeh safe, and happy, and I'll love yeh and the lass like yeh deserve to be loved."

Her eyes sparkled with new tears. "Oliver," she started.

She wasn't prepared for the softness of his lips against hers a split second later. Nor was she prepared for the feeling that her heart had healed. The great hollow that had once filled her seemed to vanish. All in that instant when he kissed her, she felt complete, at long last.

He nuzzled her ear softly, breathing in her comforting scent.

A lone tear slid down her cheek. "Why do I somehow always manage to end up a complete basket case when I talk to you?" she whispered soggily.

He chuckled. "It's not good to keep that all inside, lass."

She sighed. "No, it's not."

His breath tickled her ear. "Can I keep you?"

It took her less than a fraction of a second to make her decision. "Yes," she whispered breathlessly.

He smiled softly, and bent to kiss her again. She was still caught off-guard by the completeness that she felt, and by the unwavering love that he was trying to show her. It frightened her a little, but she fought back that nagging feeling that something bad would come from this.

She gave herself over to this foreign emotion, this love, that she thought she had lost for good.

It had finally returned.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, a few characters, but sadly, everything else is Jo's.

**A.N.** So, I've decided that you all really do rock. I was so happy with the response I got from last chapter! I could just hear you call saying, "Well, it's about time he kissed her already!" I'm sure you were all quite happy. Now, with this chapter written, I've got just one more chapter to write, and the story will be finished. So, read, enjoy, and let me know what you think! I'm sure this chapter will make you all the more happier.

**Help**

**Chapter Thirteen**

Charlotte awoke to the bright sunshine streaming through the window, a gentle breeze wafting the outdoors inside. She smiled happily, another day here in her paradise. She stretched her tiny body underneath her sheets, enjoying the calm and quiet of this place, and enjoying her utmost happiness. She had no idea what the day would bring, but she was sure that nothing bad would happen. Nothing bad could touch her or Mummy here.

She rolled over to look at Mummy's bed. But Mummy wasn't there. For the first time in a long time, it seemed, she frowned, thinking. Where could Mummy be? She normally didn't get up early, but maybe she couldn't sleep this morning.

Charlotte sat up and threw her covers off. She hopped out of bed and opened the door, peering around the edge and listening for any sounds of activity coming from the kitchen, which was just down the short hallway. She heard nothing.

Puzzled, she crept out of the room and tiptoed down the hall towards the kitchen, stopping to peer into Oliver's room, as the door was open. But Oliver wasn't there either.

Now starting to worry slightly, she turned around and tiptoed back toward her room, when she noticed that Oliver's study was open. She padded silently over to the door, and stuck her head inside.

She smiled joyfully at the sight that greeted her eyes. Oliver was sitting in his big easy chair, Mummy sitting sideways with him, fast asleep on his chest. Oliver too was asleep, his arms wrapped protectively around Mummy, keeping her safe.

The slight bit of worry that had started to form quickly disappeared as Charlotte padded back into her room. Mummy had finally realized how much Oliver really loved them. Her dream was finally starting to come true. She would finally have a daddy after all. And she would live in her paradise, where nothing bad would happen ever again.

Charlotte felt more at peace and at home now than ever before. She collapsed back into her bed, grinning into her pillow.

"Daddy, I'm home," she whispered.

* * *

Oliver awoke first, slightly disoriented and with a bit of a stiff neck. He looked down at the sleeping witch laying against his chest. Then he remembered everything that they had talked about very early this morning.

She looked completely wiped out, but at peace with the world. She had dried tears on her cheeks, finally allowing herself to grieve properly for her boys.

Oliver smiled softly. He had an idea, and he was sure that Charlotte would gladly participate to surprise Hermione.

He carefully slid his arms around Hermione and picked her up carefully, trying not to wake her. He carried her out of the room and next door into the room she shared with Charlotte. He thought that Charlotte was still asleep, but when he walked in, she rolled over and grinned at him knowingly. He smiled at her conspiratorially and set his sleeping Hermione down gently in her bed, untangling her covers and pulling them softly over her.

He turned to Charlotte, put a finger to his lips, and beckoned for her to follow him and leave Hermione to sleep awhile longer.

She hopped up and skipped over to him, taking the hand that he was holding out to her. He led her out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. They walked into the kitchen, both smiling.

"What do yeh say we make yer bonny mum some breakfast in bed?" Oliver asked her.

She jumped up and down. "Yes! She'll be so happy!"

He chuckled and ruffled her hair lightly. She gave a little squeal and leapt out of his way. He quickly hushed her, and she clapped her hands to her mouth, staring fearfully down the hall toward her room. After a few seconds, when the door didn't open, she turned back to Oliver, her hands still clasped over her mouth. She gave a tiny giggle.

"Sorry," she squeaked.

Again, he chuckled and shook his head. "Come on, let's get this breakfast made before yer mum wakes up. Otherwise she'll want to help. And we don' want that, now, do we?"

She shook her head. "Let's get to it!"

For the next half hour, they flitted around the kitchen, creating a disaster area when Charlotte accidentally dropped the pancake mix on the floor, throwing fine white powder all over.

"Oops," she said, looking up at Oliver, the fear evident in her eyes, afraid that she would be struck.

"Hey, it's okay, it's just a little mess," he said, walking toward her and making to pat her on the shoulder.

She flinched and squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself to be hit. But when it didn't come, she squinted one eye open to find Oliver kneeling in front of her.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently.

"I. . .I thought I would get hit," she said simply, regarding him carefully.

He growled low in his throat. What the hell had Matt done to this poor lass?

"Come here," he said, pulling her into a hug. "I would never, ever hit yeh or yer mum. Do you understand me? I love yeh both too much to ever hurt you."

She nodded her tiny head against his shoulder.

"I love you too, Oliver," she said in a tiny voice.

He felt his heart nearly burst. He would have said something more, but just then, Charlotte leapt back from him.

"The pancakes are burning!" she cried.

Oliver stood up quickly, lost his footing in the loose pancake mix, and promptly fell flat on his backside.

Charlotte giggled uncontrollably.

Oliver hoisted himself off the floor and ran to the stove, where, sure enough, the pancakes that they had mixed so carefully were now smoking and turning black.

He sighed and with a wave of his wand, Vanished the mess that had been, moments before, a perfectly good breakfast.

"What's going on in here?"

They both whipped around to see Hermione standing there, looking sleepy and puzzled, but smiling nonetheless.

"Well, uh. . ." Oliver stammered. So much for his brilliant idea.

"We wanted to make you breakfast in bed," Charlotte said sweetly. "But the pancakes got burned."

She cast them both a suspicious look as she walked into the kitchen. She looked down at the mess on the floor, and to the stove, where the flat iron skillet was still smoking ominously. She looked to Oliver, who had somehow managed to get pancake mix in his hair, making him look as though he had aged prematurely by about thirty years, and then she looked to Charlotte, who had a smear of pancake batter trailing across her cheek.

She laughed. "That was sweet of you both. But how did the pancakes burn?"

"I dropped the pancake mix on the floor, and we were trying to clean it up," Charlotte explained, shrugging.

Hermione shook her head, laughing still. "How about I handle the breakfast this morning, and you to sit down and relax?"

Oliver opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione walked over to him and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"No arguing," she said sternly.

He shut his mouth almost instantly. There would be no arguing with this witch, as long as those surprising kisses kept coming his way.

Hermione moved expertly around the kitchen, somehow managing to clean up the disaster that was the first attempt, and still keeping the pancakes from burning the second time. Oliver was amazed when not ten minutes later, Hermione was setting a plate of steaming pancakes and sausage in front of him. He smiled at her gratefully, which earned him another swift kiss before she retrieved her own plate and sat down with the two of them to enjoy their pancakes.

Charlotte giggled at them both when Hermione kissed Oliver, which made them both go slightly red in the face, but otherwise, the two said nothing as they dug into their plates.

"Charlotte, eat," Hermione insisted as the little girl continued to look between her and Oliver.

She promptly picked up her fork and began to eat, occasionally shooting them both covert looks.

Once breakfast was eaten, Oliver insisted that Hermione allow him and Charlotte to clean up the mess that they had been at least partially responsible for. Hermione opened her mouth to argue this time, but it was Oliver who cut her off with a kiss.

"No arguing," he said sternly, mirroring her look earlier when he tried to argue with her about cooking breakfast.

She looked so dazed when he turned away that he had to grin. He could easily enjoy dealing with arguments this way for the rest of his life. And if all went well, he very well could end up putting up with arguments like this for the rest of his life.

Hermione went back to her room and got dressed, fixed her hair, and threw a dash of makeup on. She felt happier than she had in a very, very long time. It was about time things finally started to look up for her and for Charlotte.

It wasn't long before Charlotte came bounding into the room, smiling in delight.

"What's up, Charlie girl?" Hermione asked, watching her daughter flit around the room, making her bed and cleaning up her toys.

"Oliver's taking me flying!" she squealed, now rummaging through the dresser for some clothes.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down there! You're gonna wear yourself out before you even get up in the air!"

She helped Charlotte find a clean pair of shorts and a t-shirt and helped her put them on before sending her on her way, watching her tear out of the room without a backward glance.

"Thanks, Mum!"

Hermione chuckled and moved around the room, putting everything in order for the day. She heard Charlotte's peals of laughter, and she moved to the window to see Oliver already on his broom, helping Charlotte mount just in front of him.

"Hold on tight, Charlie girl," she heard him say, holding on to her tightly.

Another squeal of delight, and they were soaring off into the warm breeze, Charlotte's laughter still echoing through the air.

Hermione sighed, and leaned against the window. There was so much to consider now. She had told Oliver that she and Charlotte wouldn't leave him, that they were hear to stay. Of course, Charlotte would have no objections. She loved it here more than any other place, with the only possibility of maybe the Burrow.

But this all complicated matters. Hermione knew that Matt would find out one way or another, and she knew that he was still having her followed, regardless. She knew also that she would eventually have to confront him, if she was actually able to get divorce papers through, he would need to sign them. Of course, this was all hypothetical, as she knew that there was almost no way in hell that she would ever be able to get divorce papers through, not with his powerful connections at the Ministry.

The best she could hope for was that maybe he would actually file for them first, and then she would gladly go along with it. And then Oliver could put a ring on her finger, and they would all live happily ever after.

Hermione snorted at that thought. "Happily ever after? Yeah, right," she muttered.

"What about happily ever after?"

Hermione started, and turned to see Rhianna standing there, grinning at her.

"Rhianna! Dammit, you scared me!"

She laughed. "I seem to be good at that. Where's my charming brother and that adorable little lass of yers?"

"Oliver took her for a ride. They just left."

Rhianna smirked. "Oh damn, what a shame, I just missed him."

Hermione chuckled. "What brings you around today?"

Rhianna's eyes sparkled. "Well. . ."

"What?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"I came to invite you on behalf of the Weasleys to dinner tomorrow night. There will be a rather important announcement made."

Hermione frowned for a second, but then, comprehension dawned.

"No!" she breathed.

Rhianna smirked. "I'm not sayin' a word. Yer gonna find out tomorrow night. Ginny would have come herself, but those crazy brothers of hers needed her down at the shop today."

Hermione glared at Rhianna. "Why can't you tell me now?"

Rhianna smirked as she turned around and walked out of the room.

"Yer gonna find out tomorrow night like the rest of them," she called. "Come on, let's go out onto the beach and get some sun."

The afternoon was whiled away on the sand, enjoying the last of the summer sun and the warm breezes. The waves lulled both Rhianna and Hermione into a lazy half-sleep state, so it was much of a surprise to the both of them when Charlotte suddenly came tearing down the sand, screeching like a wild animal, scaring them out of their wits.

"The devil do yeh mean by it, lass?!" Rhianna exclaimed, shielding her eyes from the sun and peering up at the child like she'd never seen the likes of her before.

"Oliver and I just got back!" she exclaimed, pointing behind her at Oliver's approaching figure, still clutching his broomstick, and smiling mischievously.

"I may have had a hand in it," he said slyly when he was within hearing range.

"Oliver Wood!" Rhianna yelled, jumping up and chasing her brother down the sand.

Oliver whipped out his wand, and suddenly, Rhianna was dangling by her ankles in the air. She let out a mixed stream of colorful Gaelic and swearwords, to which Hermione promptly covered Charlotte's ears in an attempt not to scar her for life.

The cleanest thing out of Rhianna's mouth at the moment was, "Oliver Wood, if yeh don't put me down, yeh great moronic oaf, I'm gonna castrate yer ass and make sure yeh can' have any wee ones of yer own!"

Oliver looked slightly shocked, but merely shook his head at his little sister. "Tsk, tsk, such language, lass. Watch yer tongue around the lass, would yeh?"

Rhianna told him to go do something that Hermione and Oliver were both pretty sure was physically impossible for a human and a goat to do, but nonetheless, Oliver let her down. Rhianna fell with an ungraceful _flump_ to the sand, where she spent the next few minutes spitting out sand.

"Well, this was a pleasant afternoon, Hermione, but I'm gonna be off. I'll see yeh all at the Weasleys tomorrow evening." Rhianna glared at Oliver before Disapparating.

Oliver turned to look at Hermione as she turned Charlotte loose again to tear around on the beach like an animal.

"Oh, Rhianna said that we're invited, on behalf of the Weasleys, to dinner at the Burrow tomorrow night. Apparently, there is supposed to be a huge announcement made, and we can't miss it," Hermione explained.

Oliver arched an eyebrow, but said nothing. His plan would work out after all.

"So what are we doing tonight?" he asked after awhile, watching Charlotte chase those stupid gulls around the sand.

Hermione looked slightly wary. "Well, while Rhianna and I were laying here getting some sun, I was doing some thinking. . ."

"And?"

"I was thinking that I would go back to the flat tonight and pack up the rest of my stuff and Charlotte's stuff, and bring it back here, so, you know, that's taken care of, and I don't have to worry about it anymore."

Oliver looked at her sternly. "And yeh were plannin' on going by yerself, were yeh?"

Hermione still looked wary, but determined nonetheless. "Well, yes, I don't think that it would be a good idea for you to go with me. Matt would try to kill you if he even laid eyes on you. And I don't want blood spilled tonight."

Oliver looked like he was fighting some painful internal battle, whether or not to let her go by herself. He knew that she was stubborn, and would go regardless of what he thought, but the thought of letting her go by herself nearly chilled his blood.

"Fine," he said finally. "But if I think yer gone too long, I'm comin' after yeh, understood?"

Hermione sighed. "Yes, I understand. It shouldn't take me too long, as long as he's not there, which I'm hoping he's not."

"Don't bet on it," Oliver warned.

"I'm not, don't worry. And I'll have my wand, and I have my self defense, if I need it. And if I get into trouble, I'll figure out a way to get word to you, or you could just, you know, stalk me there, like I know you want to, and will probably end up doing," she smiled slyly.

He shook his head. "I dinna know what yer talkin' about," he said gruffly, not looking at her.

"Oh, I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."

He glared at her.

"Oh, please, you're far from angry right now. Quite the opposite really. You're worried. And that's okay, but I'll be fine, Oliver, I swear. I won't let myself get hurt again this time. I'm done being beaten up."

"When are yeh goin'?"

Hermione looked at the sky. The sun was setting, casting an orange and red tint on the sky. It would be dark in a half hour.

"Let's eat a quick dinner, and then I'll go. He probably won't be there if it's dark. He's probably looking for some whore to get with tonight," she said darkly.

Oliver stood up and brushed his pants off, then offered his hand to Hermione. He pulled her up gracefully, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and they set off toward the cottage together, watching as Charlotte came tearing after them, still with plenty of energy.

Dinner was a quick affair of sandwiches and pumpkin juice, and then Hermione was getting ready to leave. Charlotte knew something was going on, otherwise Oliver wouldn't look so tense and serious, and Mummy's hands wouldn't be shaking as badly as they were.

Oliver noticed the trembling and said in an undertone, "Yeh don' have to do this, yeh know. At least let me go with yeh."

Hermione shook her head fervently. "No, I'm not going to let you and him get into it tonight. I don't want you to have to see him ever again. After tonight, it's done. It'll be over, and he will be out of our lives for good. I don't care what he says, or what he tries to do, I will personally make sure that he cannot keep us in his life any longer."

Oliver smiled at the force behind her words, and quickly pulled her into a tight hug. "Be safe, will yeh? I'm gonna be a basket case with worry as it is, but just be safe."

She nodded against his chest, squeezing him just as hard as he was squeezing her. "It will be all right, Oliver. I promise."

He let her go, and she knelt beside Charlotte, who was chewing her lip nervously. "Where are you going, Mummy?"

Hermione glanced up at Oliver, who nodded. She had to tell her the truth. "I'm going to go back to the flat for a little bit to gather up the last of our things and bring them back here."

Charlotte nodded. "Are we never going back to the flat with Daddy?"

Hermione shook her head slowly. "No, no, we're going to stay here from now on, is that okay with you?"

Charlotte nodded again, smiling this time. "I love it here. I hope we never have to leave."

"We won't. We're here to stay, right Oliver?"

Oliver smiled too. "Yes, we're gonna be a family, and yeh won' have to worry ever again that he's gonna hurt yeh."

Charlotte hugged them both, hard. "I love you both!"

They laughed, and Charlotte let them go and stepped next to Oliver.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Well, I'm off. I'll be back in a little while. Don't worry too much, all right?"

They both nodded, though the worry was already apparent in their eyes.

"I love you both very much!" she called as she whirled on the spot, and with a _pop_, she disappeared.

* * *

With a staggered breath, she reappeared in an alley near the flat. She caught her breath, but her heart wouldn't stop hammering. Her hands were still shaking, but she clutched the flat key in her jeans pocket in a tight fist, willing herself to be strong tonight, and have faith that everything would be okay.

With another deep breath, she emerged from the alley and set off down the block to the old building. She stopped just outside of it, breathing deeply to try and calm herself, her hands still shaking. Her knees felt like mush, but she made herself walk up the steps and through the door. She clutched the railing on the stairs as she was climbing them for support. With every step, she felt like Matt would come into view and startle her.

But with every step, she gained more confidence, as Matt was nowhere in sight. She stopped outside the door of their flat, _his_ flat now, and pulled the key out of her pocket. She felt to make sure her wand was still inside her sleeve, and tried to fit the key into the lock. It took her several tries, as her hands were shaking so badly, but soon enough, the key was in the slot, and with a click, it unlatched, and she stepped inside.

The place stank to high hell. There was garbage all over the place. Clearly, he could care less what the state of the flat was, just as long as she wasn't there. And because she wasn't there, the place wouldn't stay clean. There were beer bottles and newspapers everywhere. Broken glass littered the floor near the couch. There was a dent in the wall just above the couch. Upon closer inspection, Hermione determined that it looked like he threw a can or something of that nature against it.

The plants that she had tended so carefully on the window sills were now either dead or dying. She looked at them sadly, felt their brittle leaves break beneath her fingers. She looked around, trying not to breathe too deeply. She felt a surge of sadness, but otherwise, she felt quite unattached to the place.

With a sigh, she started into Charlotte's room first. Her stuff would be the easiest to pack up. She conjured a large duffel bag from nowhere and began filling it with the last of Charlotte's clothes and toys. She completely emptied her closet and her dresser drawers, and swiped everything from her shelves into the bag. It was quite full by the time she was done.

Once she was sure everything was in there, she carefully closed it and shrunk it to stick in her pocket. Then, she walked into their room.

It reeked of cheap perfume once more. The place was a total pigsty. Clothes were strewn all over the floor. Clothes that were Matt's. Clothes that were not Matt's, but not Hermione's either.

She gave a growl of annoyance when she had to kick a lacy red bra off her shoe as she waded through the mess. Now she was pissed. Perhaps this was a good thing. If Matt happened to show up, she would be good and ready for him. And she wasn't going down without a fight.

She again conjured another large duffel bag from nowhere and began throwing all her things into it. There wasn't much, as Matt seemed to be trying to get rid of all vestiges that remained of her, but there was enough left that she wouldn't have to run out and by new clothes.

Once she had cleared out all her things, she shrunk the bag (which was sadly light), and stuck it in her pocket with Charlotte's things. Just to be a pain in Matt's ass, she gave a flick of her wand, and cleaned the room up. Now they wouldn't be able to find their things. 'They' as in plural. She knew damn well that he had his whore staying here every night.

She walked back out into the living room, and with another flick of her wand, it was returned to its normal clean state. She walked into the kitchen and gave another flick. Dishes began cleaning themselves, the garbage on the floor vanished.

She was walking out of the kitchen when Matt walked into the flat. He stopped short when he saw her, then looked around, sneering.

"You never did know how to keep a house clean," she said calmly, watching him carefully.

"No, that's supposed to be your job, isn't it?" he said.

"Not when you're beating the crap out of me. I don't serve those who think it's their life mission to give me as many bruises and pains as they can."

He glared at her coldly, then dropped his keys and his coat and bag on the floor. "Yeah, well, I don't exactly like a clean place."

She shrugged. "Have it your way. It's not like I'm a part of this anymore. Besides, don't you have a whore to keep the place up for you now, in my place?"

He snarled menacingly at her. "Don't call her a whore!"

She arched an eyebrow. "What would you like me to call her then? A bar slut? Gold digger? Tramp? Really, I'm not picky."

His hands balled into fists. "Speak for yourself!"

Her eyebrow went, if possible, even higher. "Speak for myself? All right, I will. Oliver loves me like you never did. He loves Charlotte like she deserves to be loved. He doesn't beat us. He doesn't yell at us. He loves us like the family that he's always wanted, and now will have. And for your information, Oliver hasn't had me in his bed. He respects the fact that we may still be married on paper, and therefore it would look bad. But mark my words, one way or another, I'm getting that divorce, and you can have your whore, or tramp, or whatever the hell you want to call her. Because I'm through. I'm done, and you can't have me or Charlotte back."

He gritted his teeth. "Her name is Barbara."

She smirked. "Barbie, is it? Really, Matt, you should learn when to keep your mouth shut. Because now I really do know that she's a bar slut."

She made to walk past him, but he grabbed her upper arm in a vice-like grip.

"Don't walk away from me," he hissed.

She looked at him coldly. "Unhand me, now, or you're going to regret it."

His face showed little surprise. "Oh, think we're a bad ass now that we've got our wand back, eh? Well, guess what sweetheart, you're nothing. You're always going to be nothing, other than a whore who goes to her Quidditch jackass while she's still married."

She glared at him. "But it's okay for you to have your darling _Barbie_?" she spat.

He made to slap her, but she quickly blocked him and spun out of his grasp. Her wand was stashed up her sleeve again, she could feel it against her skin as she raised her hands in front of her, ready for his next move.

He looked slightly shocked that she had managed to block his slap, but his face was quickly arranged into a look of cold fury.

"Had enough of the pain, sweetheart?" he asked sarcastically as he moved toward her.

"Plenty. But you haven't even begun to know," she said sweetly, grinning at him just to further incense him.

He lunged for her, but she jumped out of the way, nimble on her feet, always on the ready.

'Rhianna would be so proud right now,' she thought.

He grabbed the high counter dividing the living room from the kitchen and spun around, his eyes wild with anger.

"Go ahead, Matt. Try me," she invited, her hands still at the ready, beckoning him toward her.

He flexed his hands, which were hanging by his sides. His face was almost inhuman, the rage was almost incomprehensible.

He charged at her, his arms outstretched, hoping to grab her by the throat. She dodged him, but he tripped her up, and she went sprawling. She starting scrambling toward the door, trying to get her footing again, but he grabbed her by the foot and jerked her onto her back, lording over her, grinning insanely.

"Care to try me?" he asked dangerously, and swung out to kick her in the ribs.

Her hand snapped out and grabbed his ankle, jerk it up and making him fall to his back with a loud _thud_.

She jumped up and ran toward the door. She barely crossed the threshold when he grabbed her around the neck, spinning her into the wall and pinning her there. His grip was squeezing on her windpipe, making it nearly impossible for her to breathe. For the first time, her mind was flooded with fear. She looked into his eyes, and saw a true maniac. There was no humane Matt anymore. He was so consumed by his past, by the War, by his rage, by everything, that there was no true human left inside that head any longer. He was gone, insane, by her judgment.

"You messed with the wrong asshole tonight, bitch," he hissed in her face, his teeth bared.

Blackness started to gather on the edges of her brain, frightening her more than the man who was attempting to kill her. If she lost consciousness, she was done. She wouldn't see Oliver or Charlotte again. No more Rhianna, no more Ginny, no more Weasleys.

The boys' faces floated to the surface of her thoughts. And then, she found her strength.

With a quick jerk, she kneed him in the groin, making him gasp in pain and buckle, releasing his choke hold on her.

She stood there gasping, wanting to run past him, but knowing he would grab her again.

"You. . .bitch. . ." he grunted out, and lunged for her again.

She was ready this time. She dealt him a quick sideways right square in the chest, sending him flying backward, into the railing surrounding the stairs. For a moment, it seemed that time had stopped, and he flailed his arms, trying to regain his balance.

And then, as though in slow motion, he fell backward over the railing, and disappeared from Hermione's sight.

She gasped, her mind reeling. For a moment, she couldn't move. And then, she jerked herself toward the railing, looking over it to peer down four floors, to the lobby.

Matt was lying spread-eagled on the floor, a pool of blood slowly spreading from his head.

Hermione's heart slowed its merciless pumping. Her breathing calmed. Her head was miraculously clear.

It was finally over.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, a few characters, but sadly, everything else is Jo's.

**A.N.** Okay guys, here it is. THE LAST CHAPTER. The end of yet another fic. It makes me sad, but hey, it should make you happy. I'm sure there's gonna be something in this chapter that makes you guys all tremendously happy. So read, enjoy, and let me know what you thought of this fic.

**Help**

**Chapter Fourteen**

Hermione sat on the steps in the lobby, huddled under a blanket and holding a mug of hot tea. There were people everywhere, the din was almost deafening. She refused to look neither left nor right, afraid to look down at the small pool of congealing blood, afraid to look at the blanket covering Matt's lifeless form, afraid to realize that it was finally over.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" A uniformed police officer walked over to her, forcing her to look up.

She nodded without speaking. He surveyed her carefully, wondering if she was telling the truth.

Hermione looked away, for the first time examining her surroundings since she first alerted the authorities. There were policemen and Ministry officials everywhere. The two worlds working side by side, in harmony.

"I didn't mean for it to happen," Hermione said softly to the officer, who was still standing near her.

He nodded. "You did what you had to do," he said, inclining his head to the bruise forming around her throat from Matt's death hold.

"I just can't believe it's over," she said quietly. "I don't want to believe it, it's like I'm in a dream."

The officer nodded sadly. "How long did you put up with him?"

Hermione looked down at his blanket-covered body. "Too long."

Oliver came bursting through the front door then. "Hermione!"

Wordlessly, she reached out for him, and he scooped her up from the stairs and into the safety of his arms. He squeezed her tightly, not willing to let go, never again. She held him just as tightly, not crying, but feeling the enormity of what had happened tonight fall upon her chest.

"What happened? Are yeh all right? Did he-"

"Shhhh. I'm fine. I just have a little bruise, that's all," she said gently, leaning away from him to look at his face.

His eyes scanned her face before spotting the bruise ringing her neck.

"That son of a-!"

"Oliver, calm. It's over. He can't hurt us any longer. He's gone."

He set her down gently and they both turned to look at the blanket covered body.

"How did yeh. . .?"

She looked up at him. "Rhianna taught me well. He had me in a choke hold, and was squeezing the life out of me. I was just about to lose consciousness, but then, I saw the boys' faces. And just like that, I found my strength. I kneed him in the groin, and when he tried to come after me again, I kicked him hard, in the chest. He went flying backwards, hit the railing, and lost his balance. And then, it was over."

He put an arm around her shoulder. "Are yeh gonna be all right?"

She nodded. "He died for me a long time ago. This was just the last hurdle to clear."

After a hurried conversation with one of the Ministry officials, Oliver was allowed to take Hermione home. He Apparated them back to the cottage and hustled her into the kitchen, where a worried Rhianna and Ginny were sitting, each with mugs of steaming tea in front of them.

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Ginny exclaimed, jumping up to hug Hermione tightly.

Oliver helped her sit down, as her knees had suddenly decided to fail her, and Rhianna conjured another mug of hot tea for her. They all sat in silence for awhile, relishing in the fact that Matt was now gone from their lives for good. They did not ask Hermione to relive what she had gone through that evening; they knew that in due time she would want to talk about what had happened.

Charlotte was already in bed, as it was very late. Hermione wasn't tired, but her eyes were aching and her eyelids were drooping. Finally, at about two in the morning, Ginny and Rhianna left them in peace, with hugs given and words of assurance that they would see Hermione and Oliver for dinner very soon.

Oliver sat back in his chair, watching Hermione as she idly stirred her now cooled tea with her spoon. Her head rested in her hand, her eyes unfocused.

"I think it's time for yeh to go to bed, lass," Oliver said gently.

"I'm not tired," she murmured, her eyes still unfocused, her hand still stirring the spoon.

"Yes, yeh are," he said, and with a wave of his wand, made the mugs disappear.

She looked up at him, a spark of indignance in her eyes, but then he scooped her up into his arms and carried her out of the kitchen.

"Oliver?"

"Yes, lass?"

"I don't think I can sleep alone tonight."

Without another word, he carried her into his bedroom and set her down on the bed. She smiled gratefully at him as he pulled back the covers and allowed her to bury herself underneath them. With an exhausted sigh, her eyes drifted shut, and she was asleep.

Oliver changed into something more comfortable and climbed into bed, pulling her closer to him, letting her know that she would always be safe with him.

She whimpered in her sleep, but snuggled closer to him, her breathing light on his neck. Oliver kissed her on the forehead and rested his head on top of hers. He hoped that they would have a hundred, a thousand more nights like this, to last them both a lifetime.

He had her, and he was never going to let her go.

* * *

The two were woken early the next morning by a shrill screech.

"MUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMY!"

The next thing they knew, they were pounced upon, and Charlotte was scrambling under the covers with them, putting Hermione in a death hold hug.

"Hi, baby," Hermione managed to gasp out, massaging her throat once Charlotte had let go.

"Mummy, what happened? Oliver got a message from the Ministry saying there was trouble and he had to leave in a hurry. When Aunt Ginny and Rhianna came, they looked so scared. I was afraid, Mum, what happened?"

Oliver exchanged a look with Hermione over Charlotte's tousled locks of hair, and Hermione nodded slightly. The truth needed to come out. It wouldn't be any easier otherwise.

"Charlie, it was Daddy."

"Daddy? What about him? Did he hurt you again? Is that how you got the bruise on your neck?"

Hermione brushed Charlotte's curly locks away from her face. "Yes, that's how I got my bruise. Daddy hurt me again."

"Daddy's a bad man! Do we have to go back to live with him again? I really don't want to, Mum. I'm afraid of Daddy."

Charlotte spoke with such obvious sincerity that it nearly broke Hermione's heart. She really did put them through years of unnecessary torture.

"No, baby. We don't have to go back to live with Daddy. Daddy won't be hurting us anymore."

Charlotte frowned. "What's happened, Mum? Has Daddy been arrested by the Ministry?"

"Not exactly baby. You see, when Daddy tried to hurt me, I had to stop him."

"What did you do, Mum?"

"I hit Daddy back. And he fell."

"And?"

"Charlie, baby, Daddy died."

Charlotte stared at Hermione for a moment. "Daddy's died? He's not going to find us and hurt us ever again?"

"No, baby."

Charlotte thought for a minute. "I'm sad that he died, Mummy. But he can't hurt us anymore. I'm glad he can't hurt us anymore."

Hermione nodded and drew Charlotte into a hug. "I know, baby. But we're better off without him, even if he was your daddy."

"I know, Mummy. But Oliver can be my daddy. He loves you and me. Don't you Oliver?"

Oliver ruffled Charlotte's hair and kissed her on the top of her head. "I love yeh both very much. And I would never hurt yeh."

The look Hermione gave him was one of pure love and trust. Oliver felt his heart swell with that look, his happiness peaked. He knew then that he would do what he planned tonight, at the Weasleys, and he knew that it would go without a hitch.

As they lay there, in bed, the three of them together without worry and pain, it hit both Hermione and Oliver how very much a family they now were. And they wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

Shortly after noon, Ministry officials came calling to speak to Hermione about what had happened, and to make arrangements for as what to do with Matt's body and possessions.

"I really don't care, sir. As far as I was concerned, Matt was no longer my husband when I left him. Have you spoken to his mistress yet?"

The man with which she was talking to looked taken aback. "Mistress, ma'am?"

"Yes, his mistress. Her name is Barbara. That's all I know. I confronted him about her last night, but he didn't talk about her much. He was only interested in hurting me."

The man frowned. "No, she hasn't showed up. And while going through the flat, we discovered nothing that would lead us to her. Are you sure you have no information on her?"

Hermione took on an annoyed look. "Why would I have information on the whore that was sleeping with my husband? It's bad enough that I knew she existed, and to find her underwear in our bedroom was just appalling. I have no information, sir, but if I did, I would give it to you."

"So what would you like us to do with all the items in the flat?"

"Burn them for all I care. I have no interest. And as for what to do about his funeral, I'll leave it up to you. I have not the slightest interest in taking part in it."

After signing a few pieces of parchment, the Ministry officials left them in peace once more. Oliver took hold of Hermione's hand laying on the table, and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Are yeh all right?"

She smiled at him, bitterly. "Of course I'm fine. I don't see why they would think that I would honestly give a damn about him or anything in the flat. I left, remember? If I was interested, don't you think I would have stayed?"

Oliver smiled wryly. "Good thing you didn't."

"Exactly."

The rest of the afternoon was spent unpacking all the things that Hermione had brought back from the flat. Charlotte was more than willing to help, happy to finally have all her things back in her possession. She was so worried that her favorite teddy bear would be destroyed in one of Matt's rages, and once she had him back in her arms, she nearly cried with joy.

As Hermione was unpacking her things, Oliver came into the room.

"What are yeh doin'?"

"Unpacking my things. Why?"

"Not in here, yer not."

Hermione looked up at him. He was leaning against the doorframe and had his arms crossed, looking mildly displeased.

"Well then, where do you want me to put it all?"

Without a word, Oliver pulled the drawers out of the dresser one by one and emptied them back into the duffel bag she had just taken them from. Hermione uttered a cry of protest and tried to grab him arm, but he dodged her and picked up the bag, carrying it from the room.

Hermione chased him down the hall and into his room. He dropped the bag on his bed and turned to look at her triumphantly.

"Now yeh can unpack yer things."

Hermione stood there with her hands on her hips. "You mean, I'm. . .this is. . .Oliver!"

"What?" he asked indignantly.

"I can't just share a room with you!"

"And why not?"

"We're not married! I have morals!"

He chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just unpack yer things. And get changed, we hafta get goin' to the Weasleys, remember?"

"Yes, sir," she muttered.

He lifted her chin and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips before walking into the bathroom to take a shower.

Hermione stood, stunned for a moment, then shook her head and started to put her clothes away again. She had no idea what he was on about, and she had no desire to figure it out. She was done overanalyzing things, and would take each day as they came from now on, regardless of what was going on in their lives. She had learned her lesson.

In the shower, Oliver chuckled to himself. The look of pure shock on her face, and then the indignance when she spluttered about having morals was almost too much for him. It only made him love her more. She would understand after they came back from the Weasleys. He was sure of it.

Charlotte came into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed, watching Hermione put her things away in Oliver's dresser. She had dressed herself in a denim blue jumper with a frilly little blouse underneath.

"What do you say there, Charlie girl? You look pretty," Hermione said cheerfully, looking up from the shirts she was folding.

"Thanks, Mum. I picked it out all by myself. Did I do a good job?"

"A very good job. Want to help me pick out something to wear?"

"Sure!"

Hermione shooed Oliver out of the bathroom once she was sure he was done, and took a quick shower herself. She put on her favorite brown peasant skirt that Charlotte had picked out for her, and put on a pretty blue silk blouse. She let her hair fall down past her shoulders, and pinned up her long bangs. She put on the lightest dusting of makeup, and sprayed on some perfume and brushed her teeth.

In the meantime, Oliver was having a serious conversation with Charlotte.

"Charlotte, can I ask yeh something important?"

"Of course, Oliver. What is it?"

He threw a sideways look at the bathroom door, making sure it was still shut. "Would yeh object terribly to takin' me as yer father?"

She stared at him for a second. When she didn't answer right off, he grew worried.

"It's all right, yeh know. If yeh don' like the idea, that's fine. I can wait," he rushed out.

"No!" she cried. "I mean, yes. Oliver, I want you to be my daddy. I'm not afraid of you, and I love you very much. And I know you love me and Mum a lot. I can tell every time you look at her. Your eyes kind of go all soft, and you can't stop smiling around her. And you always take me for broom rides, and I want to be a Quidditch player, just like you! I'm not afraid to be loud around you. I never was loud before, I was afraid I'd get in trouble. Oliver, you'd be the best daddy in the whole world. I want you to be my daddy forever."

Oliver grinned. "Yeh mean it? Truly?"

She hopped off the bed and wrapped her tiny arms around his neck tightly. "I mean it with all my heart. I love you, Oliver."

He hugged her back just as tight. "I love you too, Charlie girl."

Hermione came out of the bathroom just in time to see the two separate. "What's going on here?"

"Nothing," they both answered quickly. Too quickly in her opinion.

"Uh huh, sure," she said suspiciously.

"Honestly, Mum. Nothing. Come on, we're gonna be late!" Charlotte said hurriedly, tugging on her arm and causing an effective subject change.

Hermione turned to look at Oliver, exasperated.

"Yeh heard the wee one, let's get going. Oh, and you look very beautiful, lass," Oliver said sweetly as they were marched out of the room by Charlotte.

"Thank you. You don't look half bad yourself. Very dashing," she complimented.

Ten minutes later, they had appeared from thin air in the Burrow's garden, straightening their clothing and each taking Charlotte's hands as they walked up to the door.

Before Oliver could lift a hand to knock, the door was thrown open, and George appeared in the doorway, grinning.

"Good to see you! Hermione, how are you?"

"I'm great, thanks, George. You look good," Hermione greeted him.

"Well, come on! Food's almost ready, but Mum's keeping everyone out of the kitchen until it's time. She doesn't want the help, and she doesn't want us in her hair, so tread lightly."

The three walked into the kitchen, tossed hasty greetings at Molly, and followed George into the family room, where everyone was congregated.

Rhianna was seated on the couch next to Charlie Weasley, and was chatting animatedly with Ginny, who was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch. Fred was talking with his father, but looked up when George walked in with the other three in tow.

"Hey, look who's here!" he said enthusiastically, and bounded forward to seize Hermione in a hug.

"Nice to see you too, Fred. And hello everyone," Hermione wheezed as she felt the air leave her lungs while Fred squeezed her.

Oliver cast a suspicious look at Rhianna, and an almost hostile look at Charlie Weasley when they made eye contact. Oliver wasn't sure of it, but he was pretty sure he saw the man gulp.

Rhianna smiled sweetly at him and got up from the couch. "Brother dearest, always so nice to see yeh."

"Likewise, wee sister," he grunted, keeping an eye on Charlie.

"Oliver Wood! It's been too long!" Charlie said as he too got up.

"Same here, Weasley. How's the fire-breathin' lizards holdin' up?"

Charlie chortled as he shook Oliver's hand. "Always offering up a challenge. It's what I like best. How's it going with Puddlemere?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as Charlie and Oliver became engaged in their Quidditch conversation.

"Boys and their Quidditch," Ginny chirped cheerfully.

"Oh yeah. One track minds, I swear," Hermione sighed.

Molly stuck her head out from the kitchen. "Come on, you lot, it's time to eat!"

Everyone hurried forward into the kitchen, eagerly anticipating more of Molly's excellent cooking. Hermione sat between Oliver and Charlotte, the twins sat on the other side of the table, next to Rhianna, who was sitting next to Charlie. Ginny sat on Oliver's other side, and Molly and Arthur both took their respected positions at either end of the table.

For a few minutes, there was nothing to be heard but the scrape of cutlery and the murmured requests to the others to pass a specific dish their way.

"This is excellent, Molly," Hermione sighed with delight as she took a bite of the roast beef that Oliver had put on her plate.

"Thank you, dear," Molly beamed.

Ginny kept shooting covert looks at Hermione every time she leaned forward to take a bite of her food. Hermione looked politely puzzled, though she knew why she was getting the interesting looks. It either had to do with Rhianna, or it had to do with any interesting developments between her and Oliver.

After a hearty round of seconds (thirds in the twins' case), everyone was ready to retire to the living room again to let their food settle before bringing out dessert. Rhianna's eyes were sparkling as she and Charlie exchanged a glowing look, much to Oliver's displeasure. He wasn't supposed to see that look, but, being male and overly protective of his darling little sister, he was keeping a sharp eye on her. Especially with other males around.

"Very territorial tonight, aren't we?" Hermione muttered to him as they settled themselves on the couch opposite the fireplace.

He grunted in reply, shooting Charlie a scathing look. Hermione shook her head and sighed, patting Oliver on the shoulder.

Absentmindedly, he seized her hand in his and held it fast, resting it on his leg. Hermione looked mildly surprised, but, when she looked up, she caught Ginny and Rhianna's eyes, and they were both beaming in approval.

Charlotte giggled from her spot on the floor, resting against Hermione's legs.

The conversations going on around them were pleasant enough, but Oliver was anxious. He knew there was supposed to be some sort of important announcement to be given, but whatever it was, he certainly hoped that it would be made soon. He had important business to get to.

After awhile, Hermione noticed Charlie catch his mother and father's eyes, and they both nodded at him slightly, as though telling him to go ahead and make his move. With a rather forceful clearing of his throat, Charlie stood up. Everyone stopped their conversations to look at him.

"Erm, well, now that we've all eaten and are in rather chipper moods," he started, looking around nervously.

Oliver snorted. Hermione smacked him on the shoulder, and then smiled at Charlie, allowing him to go on.

"I. . .er, I have a rather important thing to be getting on with here, tonight," he continued, now turning to look at Rhianna, who was smiling nervously as well.

"Go on, Charlie, don't be bashful," Fred piped up.

Charlie glared at him for a second, then turned back to Rhianna. He pulled something from his pocket, then got down on one knee.

"Rhianna, since the moment I saw you, I knew that you were the one for me. I love you with all my heart, and would give anything to spend the rest of my life with you," he spoke from his heart, while opening the small ring box in his hand and showing it to her. "Will you do me the honor of being my wife?"

Rhianna grinned in utmost happiness, her eyes sparkling all the more brighter. That is, until Oliver let out an ominous snarl.

"And jus' who's approval did ya get to do this, Weasley?"

Everyone turned to give him a disapproving look. He remained oblivious to it all.

Charlie frowned, and Rhianna stood up rather quickly.

"I went to your father for permission to ask for her hand, Wood, calm down."

"Calm down? Calm down? Right ya are, Weasley, me calm down?"

"Oliver!" Hermione muttered warningly.

"Yeh jus' can' stand to see me happy, can yeh, Ollie?" Rhianna hissed, her happy face now alarmingly angry.

"Yer me little sister! I'm supposed to be against things like this!" Oliver said indignantly.

"The hell yeh are! Let me go! I'm happy, aren't I?"

Oliver continued to splutter indignantly. Hermione laid a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down. He heaved several great breaths to lessen his rage and indignance, then, with forced calm, looked back at the happy couple.

"As long as yer happy, then, by all means, continue."

Rhianna glared at him for a moment, then turned, beaming at Charlie.

"Yes, Charlie, I'll marry yeh and make yeh the happiest man alive," she chirped, and threw her arms around him.

"I'll bet she will," Hermione heard George mutter to Fred, grinning slyly.

Ginny cuffed him around the head.

Hermione snickered and gave Ginny the thumbs up sign for approval.

They all clapped when Charlie slid the engagement ring on Rhianna's finger, and "awwww"-ed in delight when Charlie planted a kiss on his bride-to-be.

Hermione had to slightly restrain Oliver when this happened, but other than that, he seemed to accept that his baby sister was going to be married.

The two lovebirds sat back down on the couch, holding hands and giving each other gooey looks that were totally uncharacteristic of each other, especially Rhianna.

Hermione patted Oliver's shoulder reassuringly as he gave a twitch, his eyes on his sister and soon-to-be husband.

Oliver turned his head to look into Hermione's calming eyes, and his hard ass side seemed to lessen some. He touched her cheek briefly, and then, with a look of approval from the twins, stood up suddenly, alarming Hermione slightly.

"Well, after that charmin' display of affection," Oliver started, shooting his sister a look, which she promptly returned, "I have a bit of somethin' of me own to be gettin' on with."

Everyone looked interested, though slightly puzzled, Hermione especially. Charlotte however, looked excited and watched with a knowing look in her eye.

"Go on, Ollie, tell us what's up," Ginny said when Oliver paused for a moment.

Oliver turned to Hermione and held out a hand, which she took hesitantly. He pulled her close, looking deep into her eyes.

"When I first ran into yeh again, after all those years, I knew somethin' was up," he explained, watching her face. "Once I found out what was goin' on, I knew I had to do somethin'. Whatever it took, I was gonna get yeh and the wee one out of the mess yeh were both in. It happened almost right away, Hermione. I felt myself fallin' for yeh, and I was afraid. I never felt the way I feel about yeh before. I thought I'd be stuck all alone for the rest of me life, with just me Quidditch to keep me company. But I knew I was wrong once I let myself get in deep. Hermione, lass, I love yeh with all my heart."

Hermione eyes were twinkling with tears as she looked up at his shining, earnest face. She didn't know what to say, so she just nodded, hoping he could read her thoughts in her eyes.

Oliver now got down on his knee, pulling the small ring box he'd been harboring from his pants pocket. He opened it, glanced at it briefly, and then turned it to face Hermione, who gasped and let a few tears fall.

"Hermione, I want yeh to be me wife. I want to love yeh the way yeh've never been loved, and I want yeh and Charlotte to be me family. I love Charlotte like the daughter I've never had, and always wanted. I want to teach her everythin' I know about Quidditch, and hope that she grows up to be the best damn Quidditch player in the world. I want to hold you close, and let yeh know that yeh'll always be safe with me, no matter what. I want to grow old with yeh, and watch Charlotte grow up, and watch our grandkids grow up, and have each other to lean on when life throws us a wrench. Hermione, tell me yeh'll be me wife."

Everyone was silent as they watched Oliver pour his heart out to Hermione, and watched as Hermione's shoulders shook with silent tears, happy ones, to be sure.

She gave a great sniff and ran a shaking hand across her face, wiping away the tears. She her smile quivered when she looked down into his face, pride still etched in every place, and felt her heart mend itself. Here was a man who swore to love her to pieces, the way she had always hoped to be loved, the way she had thought she had been loved, only to find that it was only just a lie. Here was a man who swore to take her daughter as his own, and love her just as much as he wanted to love Hermione. The utmost happiness filled her then, and she couldn't imagine another minute without him.

"I couldn't imagine spending my life with anyone else, Oliver," she whispered softly, a hand reaching out to touch his cheek, her thumb running lightly over his skin.

A brilliant smile broke on his face, and carefully, he took the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger, her hand still shaking like mad.

He stood up, his eyes never leaving hers. "I love yeh Hermione, with all me heart."

She gave something between a laugh and a sob, and threw herself into his arms. Everyone else laughed too and cheered for them, yelling out congratulations and well wishes.

Charlotte bounded over and threw herself at her mum and her dad, laughing as Oliver scooped her up and hugged her tight.

Hermione and Charlotte had come a long way in a short time. The years of abuse and tyranny were melting away, with the help of Oliver's love. Hermione knew that the scars would never fade away entirely, nor would the pain every truly leave. She had put herself and her daughter through years of hell, years that she hoped they could gain back with Oliver.

The two had a long talk that night, once they had returned home from the Weasleys. They put Charlotte to bed, and once she had fallen asleep, they went for a walk on the beach. They talked of their future, of their pasts, of secrets they had kept and wanted to share. Their deepest feelings, their skeletons from their closets, it all came out. Oliver wanted Hermione to go back to Healer position at St. Mungo's, which Hermione said she would think about, what with Charlotte and all. Oliver swore that once the Quidditch season started back up again, he would be home at every opportunity, between practices and matches, he would make sure never to leave them for any longer than he had to.

Their family was coming together. It had taken them years to find each other, and realize that they were meant for each other. Oliver found what was missing in his life, and Hermione discovered that love really did exist, even from the least expected person.

But really, the most treasured thought Hermione had these days was that she and Charlotte no longer needed help.

And that was the most blessed gift of them all.


	15. Author's Note

**Author's Note:** Hey guys, so I know that you wanted an epilogue to this, and a few of you wanted a sequel. So I started writing an epilogue, but then it turned into the prologue for the sequel! So if you want to read the sequel, I have just posted it under the Hermione/Oliver pairing, and it's titled **Who Says Love and Quidditch Can't Mix?**

Thanks guys, for your reading and reviews!

Serpent


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